


Jewel of the Underdark

by Laenateldragion



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types, Forgotten Realms
Genre: BDSM, Bondage and Discipline, Character Growth, Eladrin, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Enthralled, F/F, F/M, Female Bard, Half-Elves, Illithid, Illithids, Love/Hate, Master/Slave, Mind Manipulation, Mindflayer, Multi, No Tentacle Sex, Other, Slavery, Telepathic Bond, Tentacle Monsters, Thrall - Freeform, Time Travel, Unrequited Love, Vecna - Freeform, change of heart, cleric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-19
Updated: 2016-11-14
Packaged: 2018-04-21 11:10:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 16
Words: 46,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4826891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laenateldragion/pseuds/Laenateldragion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How does a woman of noble birth end up a courtesan?  How does a creature  <a href="https://sggamma.files.wordpress.com/2014/05/the-illithiad.pdf?">made to be perfect</a> hide the fact he is not from a telepathic race?  The hunt for the Adversary will bring together two unlikely people - a Half-Elf and <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Illithid">an Illithid</a> - and draw them into a never ending spiral of time, lust, and the darkest emotions that make us human... or not.  </p>
<p>Warning: contains emotionally abusive situations, BDSM, rape and many morally questionable situations - but no tentacle porn, despite what you might expect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. -1- In Which We Meet The Jewel

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Dungeons and Dragons, Illithid or anything thereof. I am in the process of making this into an original story, set in a different world, and the day I finally finish it, this story will disappear from the internet. Until then, I hope to share with you a little of my twisted ideas. I hope you enjoy. ~jm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laena's client is late. A man wakes alone in the dark. A courtesan accepts the challenge of a game and reaps the rewards therein.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I give you instant lemons this chapter! *makes magical lemon appearing noise something like brrrrrring* Lemons! And many more to follow in this story...

**BEYOND TIME AND ABOUT FIVE YEARS AGO**

Fathoms deep beneath the earth and centuries ahead of now, the man awoke in the dark to the voice of one who was like a god. 

_Perfect... yes... He is absolutely_ ** _perfect._** _A fusion of human and Illithid that will put all the others to shame. Such strength. Such power._ The voice echoed loudly in the confines of his pounding skull... _why_ did his head _ache_ so?

"He is nearly complete, Master," another voice said, aloud. "Will he be better than the last?"

**_We_** _do not create imperfections,_ the second voice but out, still inside his mind. Then the voice softened with sickening glee. _Isn't that right, Tu'quo'huq'ua?_

The man knew, instinctively, that was his name. But he was not always called that. There was another, before this. Before the dark earth had swallowed him whole, before the wriggling thing had been placed in his head and the feeling of being torn apart from the inside out - he screamed in horror at the memory. But his voice no longer echoed around the chamber as it had in the past weeks. It echoed only in his head.

The first voice laughed, low, cruelly. _It is a stubborn one, still holding on to its human memories. No matter. Soon, they will all be gone. All that will be left, all that will remain, is that which is Illithid._ It hesitated, and the man felt the slightest brush of a clawed hand where his hair had been - only now it was smooth skin _._

And then the low hum growing in pitch and volume as the changes swept through him again.The evil thing that was like a god… The man understood, then, that he would become just like it. 

He began to scream again, and again, and again as he begged anyone that could hear - _Please!_

_Help me._

 

**-1- In Which We Meet The Jewel**

**Long Ago**

How, you might ask, does a woman of noble birth end up a whore? 

Just as the green summer inevitably slips into the white ice winter, all things end. My time as nobility was a shining, beautiful moment of childhood - stripped away the instant I ended up in Carnyricyk, deep beneath the earth. And like many subterranean things, I never expected to see the sun again, any more than I expected to be addressed as a lady.Changes were coming with the new tide of pilgrims from the Surface, and I was one of the first to see them. 

"Oi! You. You can't loiter here." I turned a head lazily, a practiced motion, to stare down the battered and grey Drow that had so rudely addressed me. Perhaps he hadn't seen my face, because once my head was turned, he bit his tongue.

"Apologies. You're Laqualun's, aren't you? Apologies." He bowed and stepped back.

I snapped my fan closed and stared back at the street. Late. My appointment was late. _It’s rude to keep a lady waiting._ I tsked and started down the road. A new group of from the Surface had recently come down to do trade, and they goggled at me as I passed.

“… The Jewel of the Underdark?”

“…Blonde hair."

“…Her ears.Is she half-Eladrin?”

The voices were enough to tell me they had already heard tale of me. As well they should have.

"Miss! Miss Laena!" A page scurried up beside me. "Word has come from Lady Laqualyn- you're to hurry back home! The guest has arrived."

"What? At home? But - no! He was _supposed_ to meet me here!" 

The page shrugged. He was too young and rebellious for respect."That's what she said, miss. Good day!" He ran off, and I cursed as soon as his tiny black-curled head had run around the corner.

I started home as quickly as I could, though, because it would not do to keep a client waiting. "Miranda!" I whispered as soon as I was inside the door. "Miranda! My perfume, quickly!" I was a slave, yes, but I had slaves of my own now. Be a courtesan for ten years, and find you can gain all sorts of friends and enemies in the world. Or slaves of your very own, bought and paid for by your own Mistress. My current issued girl, a young Wood Elf that was surprisingly loyal to me despite all of Husband's efforts to make her otherwise, ran up and spritzed me gently on my pulse points, looking nervous.

"Mistress is angry, Miss Laena. She doesn't know why he came here instead. But he's already been waiting."

"I'll manage," I whispered, and touched the girl softly on the hair. "Thank you for your concern. I do appreciate it. And no need to worry, I shall be just fine."

The girl bowed and moved off, adjusting my robes behind my so they flowed just _so._ I knew they would look foreign and glamorous, which was the latest in Underdark fashion. I had helped start the trend. I glided forward, in the manner taught to me by Mistress, so the robes danced over my heels like a rolling wave, and approached the back chamber that was the area before my quarters. There was Mistress, twisting her hands together. Her dark, almost purple skin was smooth, and there were barely any lines on her face, although she was already past 37 years of age. Her cold grey eyes surveyed me, and her normally perfect, black updo done in haste - she had been interrupted at her music again. By this customer.

“Eladrin! You're late!" She had slipped into the old 'insult', but in some ways, it had become a term of affection between us. She quickly studied my robes and shook her head. "No. Too light on you. You look like a dead fish. Wear the red one." She yanked it from a hanger, already waiting, and waved to the doorway where Miranda skulked just out of sight. She rushed forward to assist me in removing the layers of robes, belts, and ornaments that had become my calling card for months now. "Nothing underneath. Just the outer robe and the belt," Mistress said.

Miranda and I exchanged looks. The client was either young, or one that seemed eager, if Mistress wanted me to wear so little. I stripped down, nakedness entirely meaningless to any of us. "What's his type?" I asked as Miranda added more perfume to my body.

"Not sure," Mistress said. "He's a difficult read. Just be yourself, if you still remember who that sweet and stupid girl was. I think he's from the surface. You can adjust as necessary. But you'll be cleaning my boots with your tongue tonight if you don't make this client happy. "

"Yes, Mistress," I said, immune to her idle threats by now. There was not a chance he would be displeased.

"Do you know how much gold he paid for today?" She shook her head in disbelief. "Incredible. It was well worth the move to the outskirts. We are getting much better clients than when we lived in the center of town, competing with all the brothels and street whores." Mistress sighed contentedly, then slapped my ass. For luck. "Get in there and pleasure him like he were the Queen of the Drow.”

"Yes, Mistress." I smiled - I couldn't help it - and arranged my face to appear neutral as I entered the room. Remembering the girl I had been, the one that loved flower blossoms and autumn leaves and deep green forests, I took a deep breath, and longed for home.

Inside, the room had been draped with scarves, lightly scented with incense. It dripped with pools of candlelight, perfectly spaced, so the bed would be draped _just_ so with light: to tease, to titillate. The client himself sat in the spot I least expected, far in the dark. It took me a moment to find him, as I thought the room empty for a moment. I could not make out his form. If he was as tall as the ceiling or as wide as the wall, I did not know. I kept my voice light, hiding my fear. "Are you one of those visiting from above?"

He stood up, and for the briefest of moments, I thought I saw strange movement near where his head was... Something that did not belong there, like the undulating movement of a snake's head... Then, with a shiver, it was gone. He leaned forward a little, and the outline of his form was human, male, and just a bit taller than myself. His face was not handsome, nor ugly, but average, with perhaps a stronger nose than most, and a chiseled jawline that was perhaps the most attractive thing about him. The strange movement I had seen would have been too tall in height for his head. Just a trick of the light. I sighed in relief.

He was still, and silent as he casually sat on the edge of the bed then arranged himself up, against the pillows. The candlelight flickered across his features. I always had thought there was something terrible waiting for me in the darkness, ever since I had spent my first nights in the Beneath, chained outside. And here, now, _again,_ I felt as though there were something horrible lurking just out of sight, beyond the edges of the half light on his face.

"Are you wearing anything beneath that robe?" His voice was soft. Mid-range. Soothing.

"No," I said.

"Good. Untie it - but do not take it off. Then, approach the bed."

I removed my robe, weaving a delicate hand across the pale strip of flesh that widened as I eased the knot undone. "Does the sight please my lord?"

He did not respond, was silent. _Is he a shy one I will have to coax every step of the way? Really? What halfwit lord with no bedroom experience could afford me? Shouldn't he have gone to some common whore first?_

_Or was he just bored? Seen it all already, and I was just a new toy?_

"I hear you have quite the voice," he said. "Entertain me." 

I sang something low and sensual, further pulling the robes from my form until they fell behind - a red cloak. I climbed carefully onto the bed, above him, undoing the buttons of his shirt and his pants. He did not attempt to stop me. _Perhaps he *is* enjoying himself more than I imagined._

I admired his pale and soft flesh, so unlike the typical clients I saw everyday.It reminded me of home, and the Eladrin - not that I had been old enough to see any naked male back then. Scant hair on his chest, almost hairless, really. He would have had it removed, then. And as to his member...

_Well. That is something beautiful to behold._ I grinned. And judging by its current state, he _did_ like what he saw.

I moved to take it in my mouth, licking up his shaft and taking his head between my lips, swirling the tongue on his tip as if he were a shaved ice to be enjoyed.But he stopped me, lifting my chin with a long finger. My hair ornament, covered will small bells that rang with every movement, chimed just then.He stared at it, his other hand moving up to caress it gently.“Wherever did you find such a beautiful ornament?And made of such odd metal?”

“I’ve always had it,” I said.“Since I was young.It belonged to my mother, I think.”I did not know why I did not make up some exotic story for my guest.The truth seemed terribly boring, and yet, I did not even think to lie.

His hand hesitated on my hair for another moment, before he let it go. "Laena.Let us play a little game tonight.Do you like to orgasm?"

I was caught by the question.Not one asked of me on a daily basis."Yes, I do, my lord, as would anyone."

"Then the rule of the game tonight is this - you may come tonight, as many times as you wish.But you will keep count, and you will thank me.And you will call me My Lord throughout.Understood?"

I paused.Where was the catch?Where was the part where he hurt me - as so many did?But I nodded. _Why question a gift?_ Desires, and pleasure, truly were gifts in life.  "Yes, my Lord."

"And Laena?" his lips quirked into a half smile.  "No pretending. I will know if you are faking. Don't ask how.  Now sit back.  I want to look at you."  I sat back on the covers, onto my trailing robe, and seductively spread my legs, exposing all of myself to him, rolling back my shoulders to raise my breasts up to height.  His hands were exploratory... curious... trailing across my body tantalizingly to follow my curves.  As though learning them.  "Interesting," he said.  "Very interesting."  

And then, he fingered me - almost without preamble, without any sort of hesitation, or question. My mouth opened, and although it was not the most skilled touch I had ever experienced, for whatever reason, it was unbearably pleasurable.  

"Oh gods..." I said. My skin was on fire.  It was as though my body had suddenly turned from its normal, cautious state, to one of extreme arousal.

"That's right.Tell me how it feels."

"It feels - it feels - " I cried out as I orgasmed faster than I ever had over the past few years, shuddering around his fingers.I clamped my legs together, but he forced them back apart, staring into my wide and surprised eyes.

" _Don't_ fight it," he told me.

"One."I said, when I could breathe at last."Thank you, my lord."

The next hour was a blur.  

He he learned all my secrets. If it didn't seem like I would orgasm, he would experiment until I did. It felt a bit like a project, actually, carried out by a scientist. Perhaps he wanted to learn a few tricks for the noblewomen back home.

Regardless of the "why", I was ecstatic. I had never fully explored my pleasure before, because it hadn't mattered. Near the end, I was blissfully riding him like a young virgin experiencing her first orgasms, eyes closed and moaning loudly, truly.  

He was gentle.  He was not rough.  I had never experienced a client like him  - not since whomever it was that had bought my virginity all those years ago.  Of course, this was not him.  I had been blindfolded at the time, but a girl remembers the feel of the first cock to grace her body, and this man was different.  The only similarity was the kindness and weird abruptness with which he treated me.  

And... The disinterest?

I realized, as I was lying on the sheets beside him, the cool indifference with which he was studying my form.Despite how hard he had been - despite the fact he had also orgasmed with me at the last, he was somehow unaffected by it.Almost acting on instinct, and without a shred of feeling.

I lifted my head up, to meet his gaze."Clean me off," he ordered, his voice less quiet now.I retrieved a towel Mistress left for the purpose and did so.And he was up and moving away from me.Even before I could assist, he was already dressing, and I stood awkwardly, the robe no longer on me, holding the soiled towel in midair before my naked body.

He looked at me, adjusting his collar."Water?" He said, almost demanding.  

I dropped the towel and went to reach for the pitcher.... And felt the color suffuse my cheeks as I realized it was gone."I - uh - give me a moment, it must have been left in the hall."

"No water?What sort of a whore are you to be unprepared?Go and fetch it now, or else I might have to punish you on your return."

I ran out the door, surprising Miranda, who flew away from the doorframe.I suspected she might have been listening in."Miranda! Water!"

Her face went white."Oh, miss, I forgot!"

"Just give it to me now!" 

Miranda grabbed the full pitcher from the top of the nearest dressing table and I grabbed it, slamming the door between us.

Seemingly unflustered without, although my heart pounded within, I grabbed a nearby empty glass and poured it to the brim, shaking.I handed it to him."My apologies, my Lord.My servant was lax."

He said nothing.He merely stared, sipping at the water.He held it for a moment, staring at me.Then, with a quick flick of his wrist, I was suddenly soaked with the remaining contents of the glass. "I will visit you again," he said, his voice strangely courteous, and exited the room.  

My hair dripped rivulets down my bare skin, my mouth open wide in surprise as I stared at the closed door.

_What_ **_was_ ** _that?_

**~*~**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading my work! I hope you all enjoyed it, and I will be posting the next chapter very soon. Eventually, I will be posting the new chapters early here and on my website, and later on other fanfiction sites. So you guys will get early access!
> 
> These lemons were light - they will get more interesting later. 
> 
> I bring you T'quo in the next chapter.


	2. -2- The Mentor and the Gatherer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A young Illithid meets his Mentor. We learn his purpose in life, but he questions if it is his true destiny.

**-2- THE MENTOR AND THE GATHERER**

**BEYOND TIME AND ABOUT FIVE YEARS AGO**

The young Illithid stood in the doorway, paralyzed by the screams coming from the man inside the black metal cage. They were tantalizing. Was that normal? The resonance stone of calm a few feet from his body washed waves of contentment into the small descending hallway, and yet somewhere deep inside him was the tight feeling of panic.

The sound of this person's pain made him inexplicably hungry.

But he had just eaten, back at his rooms. A small kobold - nothing too large. And yet here was the creature who was to be his new Mentor, a tall thing of at least eight feet, an Ultharid with longer tentacles than he would ever hope to grow, sucking out the brains of a human as though he were eating - what was that ancient dish called? Spaghetti.

He waited patiently, hands folded as he gazed around. The room was much larger than his own, and he gazed in wonder at the stacks of scrolls and magical books his Mentor kept safe along the walls. He would not receive larger quarters such as these until he had thralls to fill them, or had made a name for himself. Then a shudder and the body of the human man fell limp. The Mentor looked up from the body whose screams were still echoing off the walls.  His grizzled voice entered his head smoothly, like a door opening. _Ah, my young Gatherer! How wonderful. And have you eaten yet, today? I'm just finishing a meal, myself._

The Illithid stared at the man's body still lodged in the contraption made to keep him still and felt a little sick. _I have already eaten in the privacy of my room._  

_You're one who likes to dine secretly. No matter._ With a final slurping sound, and a quick flurry of tentacles - the creature that was to be his Mentor stood and stared. _Welcome to your new laboratory, T’quo. You and I will be working together to prepare you for your journey back in time. Are you prepared?_

The darkness of the small underground room was fragmented by a few candles and phosphorescent lamps. They made the mauve skin of the tall Illithid glow. T’quo folded his arms across his chest and stared around the messy room. Piles of parchments teetered, and gold and silver instruments were interspersed with huge glass screens reading figures and forms which made little sense to him. _As prepared as my memories and the memories of those Illithid who have come before me can make me.  And, of course, what Hemlock told me._

_Ah yes, Hemlock. A creature so close to the Elder Brains he should be living in a vat of immortal liquid himself. Mmm._ He wandered back, a group of thralls stepping forward to mindlessly drag the body of the dead man away from the contraption - most likely to dispose of it. T’quo was more surprised by his words than by the sudden appearance of his thralls, seemingly from nowhere.

He caught this. A curling, questioning tentacle. _Surprised by my lack of tact, are you? A failing on my part. We are all imperfect, my brothers and I.  Hemlock is the ringleader of this circus, though, and we must suffer it like everyone else.  Circus.  An ancient thing.  Don't ask, it's better you never know._

T’quo toyed with a small golden instrument like a clock on the edge of a desk. _Regardless._   _Hemlock is not pleased. He says I am not perfect. He cannot always read my thoughts.  Most cannot._ T’quo flicked the hand of the clock and it made an ominous whirring sound. It was perhaps better to keep one’s hands to oneself in this place.

His Mentor stepped closer. _Mmmhmmm. I see. Well, Hemlock may claim to know everything, but he does not. He has been wrong before, and it has been his undoing._

_Excuse me?_

_His death._ When T’quo did nothing to look less confused, the Mentor sighed. _Oh, he's died many a time before. As have I. As have you - soon after your ceremorphosis. I know you don't remember it, it's all right. I remember many things I am not supposed to._

No, the Illithid was crazed. T’quo’s mind flashed, in the speed of seconds, through history records and anecdotal evidence left by his predecessors, and yet there was nothing. _Please explain._

_All of the Illithids have faced their own extinction before. We have already been made and unmade many times throughout history, in other worlds, with different names. This is just the latest way in which we have survived. Time is a circle, you see, not a straight line as most think it to be._

Why was his mind still blank of these facts? _But how... How did it happen? And how did we survive?_

_There is a creature. - a being, that we call The Adversary. It exists outside of time, like us._ The Mentor had sat back down at a desk and was working on something T’quo could not see beneath a giant magnifying glass.

This was something, at last, his brain could make sense of. _A Legend, my memories tell me._

Mentor slammed a long metal tool down on the tabletop and glared, his words punctuated with angry tentacles. _Oh, well I suppose you know everything now and can just travel back in time without any guidance.  Pardon me for trying to teach you what’s really going on around here._

T’quo accidentally bit his tongue and tasted the acrid flavor that was their blood. He was not yet used to his sharp teeth, although he was already a few months old. The Mentor continued as if T’quo had not interrupted. _This Adversary has destroyed our entire race every time. And yet somehow, one of us escapes, and it begins all over again. A loop that we cannot end._

This made T’quo feel very uneasy. _But it IS just a Legend, my memory tells me so._

_It may be a Legend, but it scares the Elder Brains enough that you are being sent to see what all the fuss is about. To a time we think the Adversary originated from._ He lifted something small and gold up from underneath the glass and stared at it before setting it back down. There was a shower of sparks as he began to use something that welded the gold to something else.

When he seemed to be done with talking, T’quo sought more answers. _And this time travel. It is easy, then?_

The shoulder blades of the Mentor shifted as he chuckled. _How do you think we got_ ** _you_** _? Do you think worthy human hosts grow on trees around here? It is a bit difficult to go very far back, and nearly impossible to go forward. You think we exist in our own timeline, but we do not. Our beautiful world of eternal darkness and endless slaves is a utopia created in a bubble. It is disconnected from anything. We live outside of time and space, in a dimension of our own making. If we were to enter the "real" world, as you think this one is, we would instantly cease to exist. And you can thank the Adversary for that._

It was too much to understand, although what he said fit with T’quo’s memories. _Why aren't there better records of this? Do the Elder Brains remember this?_

_No.  They have been destroyed - at least, the ones with the best knowledge of our fate.  That was partially thanks to the Gith.  And there is no way to ever bring those particular memories back. We are flying blind, as it were._

_So this Adversary… I am the one chosen to seek it out. Why?_

The Mentor stopped welding and stared at T’quo with his huge, white eyes. _Why? Why, because you were made for it. And what better life to lead than one you were created for?  You want to be a Gatherer, do you not, uniting all the various factions of Illithid together?  This is one way to unite them all - prevent us all from death._

T’quo could think of many other lives that were better, but perhaps this was another...failing...on his part.  _And this Adversary, what does he look like?_

The Mentor gathered the golden chain from the desk and stared at it. _No one knows.  Identifying him? That's_ ** _you_** _r lovely task. Now, turn around and let me put this on your arm._   It was somehow heavier than it looked. A golden chain, but with the weight of something a bit bigger, more akin to a bracer or armor _. There. Perfect._

T’quo stared at it. _It's a bracelet._

_A bracelet-a-why! I never! It's so much more than that! Do you not see the intricacy that has gone into making this? Are you blind?_ Cursing softly, he dragged the mirror forward again, into the candlelight. _Look at the mirror._

T’quo did not fully understand what he was seeing.  And then the Mentor explained it to him.  The Illithid was feeling an odd emotion, then.

_Excitement.  That’s called excitement.  As to the bracelet, you_ **_will_ ** _wear it at all times. You can change the appearance of your form using your telepathic abilities, whenever you so choose. You could even appear Drow - but again I caution against it. Unless it is very dark._

T’quo appreciated the hard work that had gone into this small piece of jewelry. _So where am I being sent?_

Mentor's tentacles twitched with excitement. _Speaking of… What do you know of the Underdark?_

~*~


	3. -3- What We Want And What We Need

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laena is scolded by the Mistress after the client leaves her soaking wet. (shut up, I know.) T'qou learns more from the Mentor, and wonders about the importance of thralls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back! Periodically I might make changes to chapters. This one, I'm adding a link to my Deviantart, in which I have a fun (but totally non-canon) drawing of my two favorite people - Tobias aka T'qou, and Laena. It's just [pure fun.](http://juliamaestaley.deviantart.com/art/Wear-This-522276995%20) Enjoy!

**CHAPTER 3: WHAT WE WANT AND WHAT WE DESIRE**

 

**Long Ago**

When I finally left the room, my face dripping with water, Miranda leapt from her chair.  "Miss!  Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," I said, although she had already wiped my face with a towel.   "It's nothing."

Mistress Laqualyn, too, came from the far door, looking disconcerted.  "What happened to you?  What happened in _there_?  He looked completely unaffected!"

"He orgasmed," I told her, as if that would make it all better.  “And he threw a glass of water at me."  My sodden blonde curls were swept out of my eyes.  "But he said he would see me again."

Mistress clucked and moved Miranda's hands away, observing my spoiled makeup.  "We shall have to wash your face and do this all over again before your meeting with the Chancellor tonight.  He _could_ have been more careful."

"Mistress forgets that he did not physically harm me," I said softly.  

She tapped my cheek, the slightest hint of a slap, before she started examining me for bruises or marks.  "And _you_ forget your place.  I have taken us away from the clients that make you bleed, if you've forgotten.  We can afford better.  You used to be known as the greatest submissive in this city.  And now, you're more like a regular whore, catering to the rich and stupid.  Husband's political influence is growing, thanks to his doting sponsor.  He can't afford to come home early to heal you between appointments."

"I know."  My voice must have sounded distant, because Mistress stopped her inspection of my body.  

"What is it?" she barked.

"He was... He was so different."  My tongue was thick with the warmth of the memory.  "He was kind to me."  

Mistress scoffed.  "Listen to you, thinking about a client as if he were a person.  What - did he tell you he loved you and would carry you off to the surface once more?  That he would marry you?"

"No, but I wanted -" I stopped myself.  I wanted it to keep going.  I _hoped_ to see him again. 

Mistress seemed to see the weakness in my face, because she tittered.  “Are you sad?  Did you want him to buy you?  Will this be like the young man you fell in love with all those years ago?  Don't forget what happened to him."

The anger surfaced a little in my words, despite myself.  "I rarely do."  The slap was harder this time.  My head moved with the force of it.  Miranda's breath caught.  

Mistress’ lips were thin, her voice taut.  ”Don't ever talk to me like that.  You're still mine.  I _own_ you.  I found you and saved your life, and you owe me everything, body and soul."  She ripped the towel from my hands and threw it at Miranda.  "I think it's time for a music lesson."

I paused, my shoulders going tight.  Miranda's eyes widened as she looked from me to the Mistress.  Mistress' face did not soften.  "Scales, I think."  Each punishment had a name, and I bit back a groan from recognizing which one this was.  "Come on, let's see if you can make it all the way through without choking."

There was a time I would have begged, would have asked her not to do this, would have reminded her that I was the reason she made any money at all, now that she had retired from life as a Bard.  But that time, and the stupid girl that I had been, was long gone.  Begging did not buy me mercy.  Not from a woman who had none to spare.

"Yes, Mistress.” I followed her into her chambers.  I met Miranda's worried gaze as I passed and shook my head.  No need for the poor girl to be beaten just for feeling sympathy for me.  She lowered her eyes.

The harp waited for me, as it always had.  As did the bed, the whips, and any number of things that had made up our "lessons" of the past.  I had thought myself beyond this.  What was it about that man that made me act so rebelliously towards my Mistress?  Was I going mad?

"Sit."  I sat on the low stool, almost at floor level, and readied my hands to play, looking up at the figure of my Mistress towering high above me. "Begin.  And don't forget, Laena -  what we want and what we need are two entirely different things."

What we want and what we need are, indeed, too different things.  But it wasn't about what I needed, anymore.  Soon, it would be about what _I_ desired.

~*~

**BEYOND TIME AND FIVE YEARS AGO**

Along the path of the third level, the young Illithid carried the books at a hurried pace.T’qou’huq’ua had a long ways to go yet, down the winding pathways, and he was not yet near his Mentor’s rooms.He knew the Elder Brains were wise to make the youngest Illithids work to reach their quarters…. It was good incentive to learn how to levitate up to their proper level.He _would_ do it - he was determined.It just wasn’t happening as quickly as he would have liked.There was a peaceful silence on the road, except for the occasional swish of his robes and the sound of a thrall shuffling past.He glanced at a young one as he passed - a very young one.Did they usually keep thralls so young?It was a child, by human standards.But then he saw the child was carrying a basket with a needle and thread.

Yes.If they were to do needlework, what better slave than one with small hands for finer details?He envied whoever was getting fancy embroidery on their robes.( _Envy,_ he chuckled to himself, _that’s the one I just learned yesterday._ _Envy._ ) He did not yet have a tailor, or a thrall, and wore standard issued clothing that his Mentor had procured for him.

_Good morning, young Gatherer._ An adult Illithid leaned on the balcony, and nodded at him.Its retinue of three thralls stood by.

_Good morning,_ T’qou replied.He did not bow his head or show deference.That would be a weakness.No Illithid admitted they were inferior to another, although certain levels of decorum would be required amongst the more elite members of society.The further down he went, the more he would have to close off his mind, or risk getting caught.

He shut the iron gates around his brain - at least until the older Illithid was out of thought-shot, or, as soon as he was certain it was no longer paying attention.Two more levels, and he was at his Mentor’s door.His thralls answered for him, because he could never be bothered to actually open his own door.He was far too busy, in the back sanctum that was his personal study.

_Come in!_ His Mentor’s voice came to him from further inside.As T’qou passed the resonance stone of calm, he breathed in and enjoyed the sensation.He loved coming here, to his Mentor’s space.So many vials and objects and things to see.It grew darker as he went further in, and he ducked as he entered a descending hallway.The darkness of the small underground room was fragmented by a few candles and phosphorescent lamps. They made the mauve skin of the tall Illithid glow as it bent over parchments, making measurements. _Yes, yes, it is nearly finished._

_What is nearly finished, Mentor Qohorik?_ As he came in, his black robes trailed and caught on a sharp rock in the wall, and he cursed.

_My work!The work I’ve been researching for so long.Nearly complete now._ Mentor Qohorik looked up. _The thralls could have brought that, T’qou, there was no need for you to bother._

_You asked me to bring them yesterday, Mentor._

A curling, questioning tentacle. _I did?Huh.Well.Set them down there._ It tapped the tentacle in the direction of what might have been an empty space, once, but now was the least covered surface in the room.Which meant there was a stack of papers and instruments shorter than those on other surfaces.

_Mentor?_

It did not look up from its work. _Hmm?_

_How does…_ T’qou hesitated. _How does one acquire thralls?_

_It is part of the ceremony to show you have become an adult amongst Illithid.You eventually select a personal thrall to stay with you, and over time you might buy more at the Bazaar.You will likely find them on your travels to the past.The more unusual the thrall, the more of a talking point it is on your return.If you ever do return.Why do you ask?_

_I just… wondered._ His tentacles quivered. _It seems they are very important to Illithids._

Qohorik’s brow ridges rose high as it looked at him. _What?Important?No.Thralls help our society, but they aren’t vital to it._

_Then why do we have them?_

Qohorik gave him a long hard look.Purposely, it lifted a tentacle and dropped an instrument to the floor, never taking its gaze from T’qou. _Herotides! Come._

The kuo-toa lumbered from the back of the room, waiting patiently at Mentor's side. _Give me back that ruler, would you?_ Herotides bent and picked up the instrument, then handed it to Qohorik. _Good, Herotides.Now, back to your corner.Run along._ Herotides lumbered back and waited just out of sight.Qohorik chuckled to itself. _You see?What just happened there?_

_You had a need and the thrall met it._

Qohorik sighed heavily.  _Use your entire thought capacity, please._

_Yes, sir.Um…_ He glanced back at the thrall.

_I gave an order and the thrall obeyed._ N _othing more._

The questions burst from him. _But - there are needs an Illithid has!Sometimes these needs get in the way of research - an inconvenience such as the wrong tool or the wrong subject.A thrall can fetch us these things.Other times these needs get in the way of our wellbeing - such as needing someone to make sure we are well-dressed in the morning.Or if we’ve done particularly badly at something, it is the personal thrall’s job to bolster us up and give us the encouragement we need to get going._ _We won’t get such encouragement from most other Illithids.A thrall is actually a very important investment on the part of an Illithid._

Qohorik lifted a pointed tentacle in the air. _Perhaps you should think about the Nourisher’s Creed, if you’re so concerned about the thralls.They care for them and make sure we don’t eat them all._ He chortled, as though at T’quo’s foolishness.

_But even you have a personal thrall,_ T’qou pointed out, gesturing toward the kuo-toa with a tentacle.  

Qohorik’s white eyes glanced over at the kuo-toa. _Hmph.Well.I suppose._ Qohorik pulled the parchment out from where it was working and turned it over. _The personal thrall_ ** _is_** _our constant companion.They will serve us, often to their dying breath- which we usually bring to them, when we eat them.After their usefulness has ended.Or as emergency food, if all our other thralls are dead and we are starving. I suppose there is a certain intimacy between a thrall and its master._ Qohorik paused.N _ot like equals, however.Never like that.More like… How certain humanoids keep pets._

_Ah, yes, animals,_ T’qou thought. His tentacles twitched happily at the thought of them. _Like - like a cat or a dog?_

Qohorik hesitated. _Yes… ahem.Yes, like that._ Was it disconcerted by T’qou’s excitement?He needed to be more careful, or he might alert the Mentor to his secret. _Fine.Your personal thrall is your pet.And without this very important pet, also known as the ability to enslave another being with the power of our minds, an Illithid isn’t even considered an Illithid.Do you understand now?_

T’quo nodded, his tentacles bobbing.  His Mentor’s leftmost tentacle swung back and forth, uneasily. _There is no need to be worried about it, T’qou.You will have one of your own, someday, when you reach adulthood and ascend the stairs before all assembled._

 T'qou'huq'ua did not look at Qohorik.He knew deep down, behind his carefully concealed thoughts, that he would never make it to that ceremony.It was too hard to hide the truth - his horrible, _horrible_ failing.T’qou tapped his fingers nervously on the surface of the nearest desk for a good minute before he realized it and stilled his hand.As long as the Mentor and Hemlock never found out, or the Elder Council, for that matter, he was safe.  

He was safe, as long as they did not realize his ceremorphosis had failed.

T’qou glanced over at the nearest thrall, and felt an inexplicable emotion. _That’s sadness,_ Qohorik prompted. _I’ve got some resonance stones with that emotion in them, if you want to explore it further._

_Sadness… Why do I feel this now?_

_Because of what I just said.You worry you will not have a thrall of your own._  

_The connection you have with them,_ T’qou prompted. _Is there… is there a word for that?Is there something else?There is a word I cannot grasp in my head that wants to fill in what it means to have a personal thrall._

Qohorik gave him a strange look. _Master and Thrall.That’s all.There are no other words for that._ But T’qou was sure there was another word.Something he had forgotten. _You and I should stop and eat.Tomorrow, we shall take my bracelet a bit into the past together and see if we can’t use it near some Drow.If we succeed, you will be allowed to travel all the way back to the designated time, and infiltrate the place from whence the Adversary came._

Later that evening, T’quo made his way back to his own small quarters. Walking up the elaborately designed pathway, he noted how many thralls there were in comparison to the Illithids.Blank-faced, content, they trotted down the road like so many cats or dogs behind their masters.Did no one _notice_ them? And if they did not, why did _he_? Why did it bother him so much?

It was just another tick in the endless list of things he had found wrong in himself. As wrong as the memories that plagued him of laughter, of the sea, of life…The sensations that tortured his nights and filled him with those dreaded _feelings._ He could have succumbed to them - to the vagaries of lust and greed that so many of the Illithids found deplorable.But instead of making him ashamed, his imperfection somehow made him avoid those around him even more, and feel nothing but _hate_. _They_ were to answer for his imperfection. _They_ had made him, after all.But Elder Brain help him if they ever found out.

His ceremorphosis had failed, and as soon as the rest of them knew, it would be his death.

 ~*~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Great Corellon Larethian!!! Let's hope nobody finds out how imperfect he really is...
> 
> Yes, why IS T'quo so concerned with thralls, anyway? What is it that Laena wants in life? Why on earth is the timeline so strange?? These questions and more answered... soon. :)


	4. -4- The Mysterious Buyer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone wants to buy Laena. T'qou and his Mentor take a step back in time to test the bracelet and reap the results.

**\- 4 - The Mysterious Buyer**

 

Mistress and I wandered the pathways between buildings and alleyways, eyes to the road.  “All right.  We seem far enough away from the crowds now.”  She pulled me out from between the brick and mortar walls and we stepped onto cobblestones lit by phosphorescent fungi.  The beautifully adorned Drow that passed us did a double take as they saw who we were.

“We would draw much less attention, Mistress, if we stayed to the main roads.”  

She made a humming sound in her throat, but did not respond.  She had been so distracted, lately.  “Come, let’s buy dinner.”  But it wasn’t the market that she was thinking about.  She’d been going out more infrequently lately, and taking fewer clients for me.  

Miranda had let me in on a secret, a week before - “Someone has tried to buy you.  Three times, Miss. Three!  For more than Husband’s yearly salary - as he wouldn’t stop telling Mistress.  But she refused.  She looked so scared, Miss, like I’ve never seen her.  I’m telling you, there is something strange going on.”

I had my suspicions whom it could be - I had several wealthy clients who continually requested me, and… and… I tried not to think about the man who had doused me with water a few months ago.  He had never returned, like he had said he would.  I should have known.  But. He _did_ have a lot of gold.

“Laena!  Are you listening?”

Now I was the one who had been distracted.  I looked up.  “Yes, Mistress?”

“I said, look at those druegar over there.  Horrible creatures.  You must have hated having to service them.  Just think - you’re above that sort of clientele, now.”

My Mistress was a beautiful Drow - so far removed from the people I knew when I lived with my mother as a child.  Mistress was also as racist as the Underdark was dark.  And I didn’t want to admit to her that actually, most of the druegar were kinder to me than the Drow had ever been.  With a few exceptions.  “Yes, Mistress,” I agreed, out of habit.

“Laena, be thankful every day that you belong to me, and not someone else.  A half Eladrin-half Human like you would be in grave danger with another.”  Her wording made me pause, and I glanced up at her.  Her normally impassive face was marked by a deep frown.  "There are those that dwell deep below the earth... Monsters that should never be disturbed. They are cruel. They are even farther from humanity than I am. Be thankful you've never met them. Slavery under them would have been a thousand times worse."

I had heard the diatribe many times before, but the way she said it this time was much harsher. "Lady Laqualyn, are you - Is there something coming? The way you speak makes me-"

"Don't you dare question me. Help me carry the groceries, and don't ask anything else."  

When we returned back to the cottage, she disappeared into the other room.  I heard the plaintive sounds of the harp.  I gave the groceries to Miranda, who started on dinner for us.  Husband would not be home for many hours.  I read for as long as I could bear it before I was too restless to sit still.  I stood, and knocked on the thin door separating the space where Mistress hid from the rest of the house.  I let myself in.

In the center of the main living space, Mistress was perched on the edge of a red chair, strumming the strings of her harp and humming.   _Practicing again?  That's every day now since the move.  She is truly happier here, away from the center of_ Carnyricyk _._   I watched my mistresses’ fingers fly across the harp strings.  I had elves’ fingers, and could play myself, but _this_ was true talent.  Mistress was a _musician._   So engrossed was she in the music, Mistress did not even notice me enter the room. The song was haunting but… somehow, it was missing something.  I could not place a finger on it.   Mistress looked up.  “Laena, I didn’t call you.”

“No, Madam.  I wondered if I might take a stroll to the cove?”

Mistress sighed and looked disparagingly at me.  “You know you can’t go out and about like you used to.  We have to keep you unavailable.  Inflate your value to the clowns that run this city.  I mean really, how old are you now, 26?  Getting old for a half breed…”

“I have not been out in weeks, madam.  And I’ve brought in ten gold last week from the priest of-“

“Yes, yes I remember.  You did.  That’s true.”  Mistress had a closed expression then as she stared at the front window of the hut.  “I don’t like it.  But you may go.  Come right back.  No more than an hour!”

She knew I wouldn’t try to run.  I hadn’t - not since the first year of imprisonment, as a girl of sixteen.  It had been ten years. I wasn’t going anywhere.  Where could an elf go that didn’t know the way back to the Surface?  “Yes, Mistress!  Thank you, Mistress.”  I fetched my shawl from just inside the door and wandered down the road, humming a bit of the tune Mistress had been practicing.  It was pretty, but sounded even more incomplete when I attempted it.   I’d tried singing it just last week to one of my clients, but they had wanted drinking songs.  They _always_ wanted drinking songs. I was more than weary of it, even with the gold I had been made.  Being a courtesan had its price.   

The old cove  was the best part about the new house we had moved to.  It contained a clock for those that traded above ground – a magically protected shaft that stretched up to the surface, with a space just small enough to see a patch of sky.  I loved to sit on the edge of the underground lake and stare up.  The lake had been made into a shrine to  Eilistraee.  The obsidian statue watched me solemnly across the bank, dimly lit at the base by two ever-glowing lamps.  I rested my head on my knees as I stared up.   The moon was my only friend here.  Bathed in that light, I imagined myself free once more.  It was the only time I could.  

A moving shadow further down the stretch of cove made me unfurl and stare into the darkness.  It was too far.  I could not make it out.  _Is there someone there?_ I scanned the rocks along the shoreline.  But aside from the soft lapping of the water, and the distant noise of someone walking along the road, there was no other sound.  _Just my imagination, perhaps.  Still.  It's a sign I should get going._

As I walked home, I got the distinct feeling someone was watching.  I turned my head from side to side, but saw nothing.  I was near the hut when there was a flicker out of the corner of my left eye.  I jumped.

A man dressed in the black armor of a patrol guard approached me with a smile on his face.  His tall black helmet caught the light as he gave a strange bow - his head held up to stare somewhere over my shoulder.  “Hello, milady.  Is this the home of the illustrious Bard, Laqualyn Auvryana?”

I knew better than to tell him that.  “It is customary when greeting a lady to give your name.”

His brow furrowed and his tone grew unpleasantly terse.  “Excuse me… my _lady._   But as a respected member of the city guard, I don’t have to do anything.” _Because you’re a slave,_ the words sat unfinished between us.  

I glanced then at his armor, his strange chain gloves, and his insignia… Something Mistress had warned me about came to mind.  A worshipper of Vhaeraun.  Was it possible?

I took a step back, and gave a suddenly charming smile and bow. "I am sorry.  Let me fetch the Lord of the house, and you can talk to him.”  I would not dare to suggest her Mistress had all the power in front of an organization that hated the Drow matriarchy.   Husband was out, but he didn’t know that.  “We weren’t expecting any visitors today.  I’ll just be a minute.”

“That will not be necessary. “   He reached for his weapon, and stepped towards me.

 

~*~

 

**FOUR YEARS AGO**

T’qou and his Mentor stared at the Drow.  The five Drow stared back.

“Hello!” Mentor sounded far too cheerful.  _Gods._   _Does he always have to sound so fucking happy all the time?_   It was entirely unbelievable.  And _speaking._   It was so plebeian and feeble in comparison to mind-speech.  “How are you, fellow travelers?”

The Drow eyed one another, and then Mentor.  “You look…Strange,” one said. “What... What are you?”

That might have been because Mentor was using the bracelet without using any suggestion of what he might actually look like.  The bracelet’s parameters were thus - take a telepathic suggestion from the wearer, and fill in all the details for the person looking upon them, discarding anything that might not fit (tentacles, height, etc.)  Mentor - ever the scientist - had the idea to experiment what would happen when one did not give any sort of telepathic suggestion to the onlooker.

“Strange, yes.  And like you don’t belong,” said another Drow, drawing his sword. The rest followed.  Apparently, the result of the experiment was utter chaos and confusion.

“Ah, fuck,” T’qou whispered.  He came out from behind the telepathic invisibility Mentor had given him and Mindblasted the Drow.  Unfortunately, his skill was still a bit…. Weak.  Curse his failed ceremorphosis.  Three of them were just fine.  And they attacked his Master.  His Master fought well, for an old Illithid.

But the one Drow in the back…T’qou winced as his Master was struck, hard, in the shoulder.  He saw blood, but didn’t stop to think.  He drew his own rapier and attacked the Drow.  He was not a strong Ilithid, but he was fast, and he more than made up for it in his ability to slice into the unprepared.  They had been expecting another psionic blast.   There was a blur of killing and fighting - and he managed to come out unscathed.  He caught his breath, and realized the corridor was silent except for the sound of his breathing.  _Mentor, I did it.  Look, I -_

He looked around at the Drow corpses scattered on the ground, and the body of his Mentor.  He was most certainly dead.  The road was dark ahead, and he did not know the way to the city the Adversary hailed from.  He was alone in the Underdark, without any idea of how to travel forward in time once more, without his Mentor to guide him.  There was not one Illithid in earshot in this part of the Underdark - he could hear no voice of the Elder Brain guiding him on, or that of others of his kin.  In other words, he was completely and utterly alone.

At last - T’qou could do things his own way.  

If he could have beamed, he would have.  Instead, his tentacles twitched happily.  He ate the brains of the Drow, relishing the flavor of their memories and emotions.  Such unique experiences, all.  Like a wonderful five-course meal.  But to eat his Mentor’s brain would be barbaric -  at least by the standards of the other Illithid.  The only thing that consumed Illithid brains was the Elder Brain.  It was how it gained its vast knowledge of the world.

But T’qou had ideas of his own, and needed all the information he could possibly obtain.  He ate his Mentor’s brain, and then took the bracelet from his Mentor’s arm.  After all, Mentor wouldn’t be needing it anymore.  

~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Noooooo, Laena! Why on earth is a Vhaeraun worshipper attacking her? What will happen to T'qou now that he's all alone in the world? The timeline is drawing closer and closer to now!


	5. - 5 - Sign At The Last / The Pact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laena and Laqualyn fight to survive. A pact is made.

**\- 5 - Sign At The Last**

The spells my Mistress had taught me for self-defense ran through my mind, but I could not recall how any of them were cast - save one.  I settled on one she called a Vicious Mockery - lashing the receiver with insults to incapacitate them.  Throwing my hands out I cast it at the man, who immediately fell, clutching his ears, and ran for the house.  But two men already blocked the front door, their two short crossbows lifted towards my face.   _Ah._   The man's bow had been telegraphical.  That was why the false guard had been looking over my shoulder - so they could move into place.  I stopped dead, blindly searching for the safest course of action.

In the gap of that second, my Mistress suddenly appeared in the shadows behind the man on the left.  There was a flash of something shiny and metal, and then the man was bleeding copiously, shimmering crimson onto the ground.  Laqualyn was gone again, and then by my side to press the now strangely warm dagger into my hand as she pulled out another one for herself. Back to back, prepared to fight, we waited.  The other of the two shot a small bolt from his crossbow, and the part of Laqualyn that passed the dagger pulled me towards her so it went off just over my shoulder. A miss.

The first guard seemed to be clearing his head, shaking it, and with a large gesture, he pulled out a pair of shrikes and threw them right at me with a frightening underthrow.  He pulled them back on the short swing.  Lady Laqualyn blinked out again, and the one targeting her disappeared.  She appeared behind the second man with the crossbow, chopping down on his wrist and ceasing his ability to use the short bow he was in the middle of reloading. In my attention to my Mistress, the shrike made hard contact with the meaty part of my left shoulder and I cried out as it sunk in.  My left arm started to go numb.  I stood in shock, having been out of combat for so long, I could not remember what to do. 

From behind me, Mistress began to sing a fragment of the tune that she had been singing over and over for the past few weeks - the one that had always sounded so incomplete.  Now, in a dark way, I understood that the underlying feign or imperative - the part that was missing - was the imperative to kill.  I rushed forward and gouged the man Mistress had attacked.  He tried to draw his short sword, but he was not at all fast enough.   I didn't understand how I knew the motion, never having been trained with daggers, but I clapped a hand on the arm attempting to draw his weapon, and as he tried to draw faster, I helped him to pull it up.  I shoved my dagger into the exposed armpit above his chain shirt.  With a movement I had most certainly never learned, I tore the dagger out and twisted it around, dragging it downward.  This small, dainty knife was clearly intended to do so, covered in backhooks as it was.   A torrent of blood spillled out over my hand as the man cried out, and collapsed.  I could not feel my left arm anymore.  

My Mistress gave me a quick nod, and blinked out again, behind the third of the men.  Her knife arm snaked over his neck and came in, but then, he was not stupid.  He had been watching.  So his empty hand caught the blade hand and as he did, his sword arm went around.  As Laqualyn tried to spin away, he resisted the pull and stabbed her in the other arm.  I winced as I saw a little bit of point on the other side.  His angle was not ideal, but there was a cut, certainly.  For a moment in that position, Laqualyn's eyes became steely and terrible.  I watched as she dropped the knife that she was holding, and as her hand went limp, he let go and pulled back the sword.  He spun around to try and get her again, and there was another brief flash as she dropped into a low crouch.  There was another knife, and Laqualyn sent it straight into his crotch.  It hit a major artery, and blood showered the ground.  He dropped the sword.  Laqualyn scooped it up and stabbed him in the neck.  

I ran over.  “Mistress!  Mistress, are you all right?”  But I stopped shouting and gasped when I spotted it.  Visible through the open back of Laqualyn’s gown, there was a thin line across were she had been slashed. The horizontal line just on the small of her back had already started to darken.  Poison.  Around the same time, I realized the numbness in my shoulder was growing.  The wound on Laqualyn's back was turning purple and spreading.  In my Mistress’ hand, where other puncture wounds could be seen, the same purplish color appeared.  Realization struck.  The hilt of the sword my Mistress had stolen from our opponent had been covered in tiny barbs.  Barbs covered in poison.  That was why he had been wearing chain gloves - I had assumed they were just part of the armor. 

This attack had been planned.  

"Why?" I croaked, my voice already weak.  "Why did this happen?" The Drow have a short hand to communicate that which is subtle.  I had learned how to read it in my years underground.  With ever slowing hands, Laqualyn used the secret sign language of the Drow to spell out a series of words, of which only one was particularly clear:  “Cult.”  The underlying emotion, which was something only the Drow language could convey, was clearly resignation.  This had been planned, and Laqualyn had been the target.  

Then, her hand stilled, and fell.

My head reeled, and I succumbed to darkness.

~*~

**THE PACT**

**FOUR YEARS AGO**

“Vecna!”  The loud, low laughter seemed to traverse several sound barriers, high to low, echoing in a way impossible for the room in which the sharp-eyed Drow woman stood.    “Hear me, Vecna!”  She crossed her arms before her flat chest.  “I seek to make a pact with you.”

“Pact?  What sort of …. _pact…..pact_ ….” The voice echoed as though they were in a cavernous space, although the room wasn’t much bigger than the bed and dresser.  “What could a creature like you have to offer me?”

The woman, who was really a seven-and-a-half foot tall, mauve, tentacled male, made a sound somewhere between a growl and a grunt.  “What do you want?  Blood offerings, the rites of a cleric of Vecna? Whatever is normally expected.”

The voice sounded thoughtful.  “…But _you_ do not believe in me.”

T’qou cursed.  “I know you exist.  That’s the same damn thing.”

The voice was amused now.  “….you believe yourself to be better than I.”

T’qou bit his tongue.  “Fine.  Fine.  Let’s do this - I am going to be hiding out here, pretending to be a cleric to Vecna, searching for any information on this cursed Adversary.  I’ll be here for quite a while.  Why not - instead of pretending to worship you - I actually do.  Death domains are fascinating things, anyway.  I don’t see why it couldn’t work out.”

“…Fine, little tentacled beast.  We shall see how well you survive.”

There was silence.  T’qou waited a minute.  His eyebrows rose halfway up his forehead as he looked around.  “Hello?  Vecna?”

Then, a great surge of power through his body, and he collapsed inward, clutching his stomach.  “Ah.  Oh no….”  He knew things now, things in his mind that were not there before.  He did not like that something _else_ could plant things in his brain.  That was for him to do to others.  But at least the information was useful.  He clutched and unclutched his fists, testing the divine magic, feeling it trickle through his veins, and he laughed through the pain.  “Yes.  Yes, this is the power I sought.  This is what I needed.”

“—I warn you, young Mindflayer. You cannot be all things.  _Someone_ should teach you that.”

“Damn…. Damn.”  T’qou stood upward, sweat beading on his forehead.  “Yes, fine.  All right.”

“In time…. I shall see you in time.”

As soon as he knew the voice was gone for good, T’qou kicked over the only chair in the room.  It was too large to fit between the bed and the wall, and stayed wedged there, an inch above the ground.  T;quo sat hard on the edge of the small bed.  “Gods.  I am better than _all_ the gods.”  

And the chair fell the rest of the way, directly onto his foot.  

~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Laena is a bard and T'qou is a cleric! Isn't that funny.... I thought Mindflayers hated most magic... except Divine magic, but why on earth to Vecna? Yes, why indeed. Wait until you see what he does with it, it gets even weirder...


	6. - 6 - Broken Places, Broken Smiles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *FIXED* Laena wakes up. T'qou hears a clear bright thought in the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs I recommend listening to in the duration of this reading:
> 
> Carmen - Lana Del Rey (Put your red dress on/put your makeup on...)
> 
> Kingdom of Welcome Addiction - IAMX (your taunted charm/and your broken smile/touched me unexpectedly...)
> 
> Ditch Lily - Murder By Death (You were made incomplete/you were made for me)

**\- 6 - Broken Places, Broken Smiles** ****

My head pounded.  Someone was trying to dig their way inside from somewhere just behind my left eye.  I sat up with a groan, and felt a thin sheet sliding off of my naked body.  I opened my eyes.  The bed was mine.  The room was mine.  I was inside Laqualyn’s home once more.  Then, the pain grew sharper and I gripped the sides of my head.

“Lay back down,” a familiar voice barked.  “You’re not well enough to be sitting up so suddenly.”  Husband. I obeyed and laid back down on the pillows.  Husband, with his long white hair tied back into a long braid, moved across the room.  I watched him as he clanked through several bottles of things and mixed them together.  “Drink this,” he ordered, and came over with a vial of greenish liquid.  

“But where’s-“ he shoved the bottle into my open mouth, and grabbed my head so I would have to drink it.  As soon as I had swallowed, I felt myself begin to fade into dark again.  The second time I woke up, the pain was much less - more distant.  I could think clearly.  Husband leaned over his knees in the nearby armchair, staring at the floor.  “Master?”  He did not respond.  “Master, what’s happening?” I whispered, my tongue thick.  “Where’s Mistress?”

Husband’s head slowly lifted, and his eyes were hateful.  “What do you think happened to her, Eladrin? Hmm?  You think she turned that lovely shade of purple for no reason?”  I jerked as he stood up and kicked the armchair to the side.  “She’s dead, slave.”

My hand went over my mouth.  “No…”

“I’m not sure how it happened, but I guarantee you this is your fault.  You’ve been nothing but trouble, and I can’t even tell you- “ he stopped.  “No.  You don’t deserve to know.”

He rounded, going to a dark corner of the room.  He brought forth a pile of clothes, a wrapped weapon, and a moment later, the beautifully carved harp that Mistress had always played.  “She wanted you to have it.  She mentioned it just last week - she was thinking of giving it to you.  You certainly practiced it almost as much as she did.  And to think, I didn’t know she was in danger, and she knew and she didn’t tell me.”  He slammed his fist against the wall, voice thick with tears.  “Did you know about this, Eladrin?  I swear, if you knew about it-“

“I didn’t!” I said.  There were tears on my face as well.  “I didn’t know anything about it!  She didn’t say a thing. But _she_ knew.  She signed to me before she passed.  She knew it was coming.”

Husband pushed the harp against my chest, and I cradled it.  “You’ve got one hour to pack up your things and get out,” he spat.  “You’re free, Laena.”

 _Free?_ My mouth fell open.  “But—where would I go?  I don’t know-“

“Just get out of my sight.  I never want to see you again, do you hear me?”

I felt an odd mix of pleasure and fear as his words sank in.  “But - but what if they’re still out there—“

“You think I care about you? You were _nothing t_ o me!  It was only Laqualyn that stopped me from selling you off years ago.  And now that she - she’s-” he swallowed a sob.  “I don’t care if there’s an Aboleth waiting out there to gobble you up.  If you die, I won’t mourn you.  Just get out and never return.  If you’re still here in an hour, I’ll come back and kill you myself.”  He stormed out of the room, slamming the door so hard the walls shook.

I let the covers fall off and stared down at the gold gilding on the small harp, touched it lightly with a hand.  “Thank you,” I whispered.  I examined my naked shoulder and found it to be completely healed, with only the finest white scarring so light, it blended with my skin.  But there was no time to hesitate.  I donned the clothes I had been given - surface clothes, I realized - and began to select various items from my much more vibrant wardrobe to take with me.   I took gold that I had not yet given to the Mistress.  Valuable hairpins - some of which I donned, others which I packed - and a gold hair comb in the shape of a peacock with many-colored gems for the feathers.   This in addition to my usual bell ornament, which went with me everywhere.

Perfumed oil, parchment and ink, sealing wax - although I did not yet have a seal of my own - I ran down to the kitchens and threw open cabinets, grabbing bread, a water skin, cinnamon and saffron for trade - and ran back upstairs.  Normally Miranda would be out and about.  I thought about finding her, taking her with me… But she had not been freed, and I had.  I knew it was selfish, but I left her behind.  Two of us would be too hard to hide, and the girl did not know anything about fighting, or surviving.  

I gathered all my things into a knapsack and threw it over my shoulder, donning a belt with a scabbard.  I unwrapped the weapon- and paused.  My rapier.  It was _my_ rapier, from ten years ago.  _They had saved it all this time?_   With the gold handle and the Eladrin design, it was surely worth something to trade.  But somehow it had survived.  I tested the familiar weight of the handle, swung it a few times - the smooth movements of all my training came back, and I smiled.  

I was free.  The thought sunk in with sure finality.

~*~  

**THREE YEARS AGO**

It seemed this place, like everywhere else, was broken.

Usual thoughts drifted past - this one wanted her dead; that one owed the other one money.  Petty grudges and shallow compliments hidden behind seemingly sincere political maneuvering.  In his short few months at the temple, in his few ventures out, he’d heard much the same things, and little change.   He carried the experimental vial in one hand, a disinterested tilt of his head every time a particularly loud thought passed – but that was rare.  Most of them were monotonous.  And still no Adversary.  He had a plan to seek out a guide, to go up to the surface, to seek word of the Adversary in the world above.  Even here, in this age, the Illithid had heard of it.  Strange, how such a legend could permeate time, but be so abstruse.

He had learned the information from a passing Illithid slaver - before he had killed him and eaten his brain.  No sense letting such knowledge go to waste.  And - he really hadn’t wanted any Illithids of this time to learn of his existence.  He made it look like a Gith attack.  But he felt nothing but anger and frustration when he realized he had been through all this searching for nothing. How long would he have to wait?  Sometimes, he wished he had never-

_It would be the spring rains this time of year._

He stopped.  A smooth, bright, female voice.  That thought was so clear; it broke through all the rest.  He searched for the one whose thought had projected so clearly, but he couldn’t see her.  _There’d be raindrops right about now, dripping down the eaves and getting caught in the copper rain catchers.  Green grass, breaking out from under the snows._

Surface?  This one was thinking about what it was like on the surface!  The voice got a little fainter as it moved, and he was quick to dart between annoyed vendors and market people.  He ducked past awnings; listening, searching for that one voice.  _And when the snow was finally all gone, it would be time for the spring blossoms to bloom and fall, and everyone would sing and have picnics under the pink flowers.  Funny. I used to think it trivial. Now, I’d give anything to be sitting underneath those blossoms._ When he came to a clearing in the crowd, he realized it was because of the one thinking such strange thoughts.  

She was so pale her skin almost glowed white in the luminescence of the phosphorescent fungi.  Her blonde hair caught firelight and green luminosity alike, elaborately done up as it was in swoops and curls.  There was a soft chime, as the tiny bells of her hair ornament rang with every turn of her head.   But inside… He marveled at the mind inside the body, searching it as cautiously as he could without alerting her to being probed.  Intelligence.  Bravery.  A touch of unhappy noble childhood… A splash of torturous history.  And yet there was a slight sense of humor, a confidence that remained despite the fact she was clearly beaten down by her time here.  

And the violence of her inner thoughts!  The anger!  This graceful thing had _killed_ before.  Impressive.  There was a fire inside of her that nobody ever saw, or knew.  She hid it well.  Her broken smile widened for a passing Drow lady. 

Her ears… She was Elven.  Ah, what was that race called again?  Eladrin.  Yes.  But she was built far too curvaceously… So she was only half then.  Half-something.  She was imperfect.   Perfectly imperfect, in every way.  It rang a bell of familiarity inside of his head. The Drow lady paused, and handed her a scroll, which she took with an elegant bow and a flourish of a pale wrist against the blue robes she wore.  She tucked it inside the folds of her robe, bowed again, and continued on her way.  Was she… A messenger?  What was she –  

 _Her husband will probably want the usual._ Her mind’s voice dripped with disdain.  _Mistress will have to remind him not to leave welts.  It displeases the other customers._

 _Customers?  Welts?_ “Excuse me,” he said aloud to the nearest Drow woman.  “Who is that?”

The woman gave him a strange look.  “You’re telling me you haven’t heard of her?  That’s the Jewel of the Underdark, that is.  High class whore.”  The woman retreated into the crowd, still laughing at his ignorance.  Someone who was paid for servicing others with her body.  Strange, he had never seen one from the surface.  He realized he was still following her through the crowd by the time it had thinned and they had reached the hut she approached.  It was crammed between other, very similar huts, and a sour-looking Drow woman stood with her arms folded in the doorway.  “You’re late, Laena.  Get in here.”  The half-elf woman slipped past the Drow and inside.

The Drow woman spotted him  - and although he looked every bit a Drow himself, she gave him a disapproving stare.  “Well, move along.  Nothing to see.”  She shut the door behind the elf, closing him out.  He waited out of sight for a few hours, until the girl came back out.  What was it that kept him there? Curiosity?

He realized it as she started to sweep the front stoop.  Back with the other Illithids, back in the time he now detested because he never truly belonged, he had seen many collections of things: art, gold, priceless books.  And something about this girl reminded him of them.  

He altered what he projected to a Drow prince, dripping with jewels, and strode slowly past the house.  He observed her openly, up close, and she did not notice him, perhaps used to the staring.  Or perhaps lost in her thoughts.  “You missed a spot.”  He pointed out the offending corner, and she jumped, surprised by his sudden appearance.

Her cheeks suffused with a spreading blush as she lowered her eyes, staring back at the ground, and he was struck by her beauty.  Beautiful things.  That was what it was.  The other Illithid had collected beautiful things.  And something about her face now made him think of a red flower blooming on a white stone or snow - although he had never seen snow.  He could pull memories of it from the minds of those he had consumed, though, and he knew it was like that.  Or, like a single dot of red paint on an otherwise blank canvas.  The flush that covered her exposed skin… She was beautiful, like a piece of artwork.  He wanted to stay and stare.  But he had lingered too long.  So he returned back to the temple, forgetting all about his previous experiment.    

He was too busy dwelling on the girl.  After much poking of the reluctant clergy members throughout the temple, he had finally learned something else.  He had been wise to go to the youngest recruits - those still on the edges of puberty, all laughter and secrets.  “She’s really rare,” the young Drow breathed.  “Someone like you or me could never afford a night with her.  And she does women, too,” he added.

That’s right, he was a woman, currently.  “Well, whores service all types, don’t they?”

“Yeah, and rumors say she’s done half-orcs and druegars too.  But listen, listen- she’s odd.  She’s like-“  he looked around to make sure none of the older clerics were listening.  “She’s got this special talent.  Something that she’s known for, that makes her so wanted.  It’s-“

“Arthur!  Arthur, you’re needed!” One of the elders had come into the doorway.

“I’ll tell ya later,” Arthur dashed up and out after the elder.  

But he was too impatient.  He could not wait.  So he went out into the streets again that evening to try and learn more.   Besides, he was hungry.  An hour later, in a particularly dark alleyway, he was carefully arranging the corpse so it would look like it was just a heart attack, or something to do with the brain.  No one looking would suspect that its brain was entirely missing from its head.   T'qou'huq'ua did not want anyone to realize what had happened.  If they knew there was an Illithid about… He shuddered.  They would find him, surely.  Even with his Mentor’s wonderful tool for disguise, it could still fail.  He didn’t know entirely how it worked, _still_ , even a year after his Mentor’s untimely demise.

T'qou'huq'ua remembered the way the Drow had fallen upon the Mentor.  He did not want the same fate for himself.  He went in and out of several pubs, never drinking anything, just holding a mug of ale and listening.  He wanted to see if they were thinking of her.  But it wasn’t until he had nearly given up for the night that he finally heard something - from the woman herself.

 _Can’t… So stupid, Laena.  So stupid._ She was upset.  _Very_ upset.  He rushed towards where her voice was loudest, and saw her, disheveled, her clothes torn, walking away from the direction of a very nice house.  She glared backwards, tears still on her cheeks, and stumbled forward, crying out in pain.  He followed far enough behind she would not notice him.  And her surface thoughts showed him what had happened.  The Drow Lady and Lord- as usual, had wanted to tie her up and whip her. 

So that was her specialty, then? Taking pain for other’s pleasure?  And by her thoughts, that was normal.  She did not mind it.  She… She enjoyed it?  He filed that away for curious pursuit later.  There was more from her mind - 

This time had been different.  This time, they had brought a friend.  Which was entirely against the rules.  Angry, confused, she had been all ready to leave when…The male friend had raped her.  Brutally, by the memory she continued to replay.  The usual precautions her Mistress took had not helped.  And then, to make the night even worse, she had not been paid.  

She was badly hurt.  Without the healing potions she normally carried, she was in a lot of pain.  And yet, somehow, her most prominent, reoccurring thought was that Mistress would be so angry if she managed to leave blood on her clothes.  He was stunned by this.  She cared not for her own wellbeing, just that the Mistress would be unhappy she had not been paid, or that her clothes were ruined?  What a strange creature she was! 

She was so beautiful, even in her bedraggled state, and something inside him urged him to heal her.  But that was foolish.  Why?  What did some whore matter to _him_?  Besides, he did not want to alert her to his presence.  But after a few more feet, she collapsed, crying in pain.  They were alone on this part of the road.  No one would come by, at least, not until the next patrol.  He cursed a little to himself and raised a hand, casting the littlest divine magic.  “Half is life,” he whispered to himself.  She looked a little consternated, and looked down at herself as if to make sure she was not mad - that she actually felt a little better.  

He hadn’t _fully_ healed her.  That would have been too suspicious.  But it was enough for her to stand up and continue to stagger her way home.  He followed her back to her hut and listened just outside the walls to the thoughts within.  The Mistress was indeed angry about the clothes, but there was a tenderness with which she healed the girl’s wounds and sent her to her room.  And judging by the thoughts that followed, that Drow Lord would probably meet a mysterious death sometime within the next few weeks.  Laena’s Mistress was a dangerous woman, then.  But even this information was not enough.  T’quo needed to know more. 

He went to bed dreaming again of the sea and woke up in a cold sweat.  He spent weeks to prompt, and search, and research, and eventually he uncovered things about her that made the desire in him even stronger.  Yes.  He needed this Laena.  After all, wouldn’t she _want_ to be free?  This whore - this half-elf - this abandoned noblewoman so subservient to others -  T'qou'huq'ua would not be satisfied until he had her for his thrall.  

~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well! Finally, we approach the time when these two meet. Things will pick up and get quite interesting from here on out...


	7. - 7 - The Drow On The Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laena is free, and meets a Drow on the road who will help her to get everything she wants.

\- 7 - The Drow On The Road

It was just under the time limit of an hour when I donned my cloak and put the hood up.  I crept through the weirdly silent house and out the front door.  My heart pounded.  I half expected someone to run after me, shouting that a slave had escaped - a crime punishable by death in our city.  But no one did.  I was alone on the road, until I reached the busier portions.  And then, I was surprised to note that nobody seemed to recognize me - I was just a pale traveller.  No longer the Jewel of the Underdark.  And then the vendors and the booths thinned, the huts grew fewer and the lighting dimmer, and I was out of the main portion of the city.  

I was still a bit woozy from the poison as I walked.  I headed up a steep path, presumably the only way up into the next level. But it seemed to take a long time, and I was not entirely sure of where I was going.  _Is this right?_ A quarter of an hour passed wandering in this way before I began to realize I was lost.  A pit formed in my stomach. I did not know _how_ to escape the Underdark.  My attempted murderers might return for me.  Shivering, I hoisted my pack higher and attempted to look taller.  Anything to hide the inner terror I felt.  

As I reached a bend, there was a small outcrop of rock, and a campfire that burned low.  The flickering yellow-orange light illuminated the dark edges of a Drow.  The woman sat with her back to me as I passed, and she ate what appeared to be some sort of singed wall fungus.  I hesitated.  The woman was not dressed like a noble, or a worker.  She looked more like a world-traveler, with her chain tunic, black metal pauldrons, battered black cloak and travel satchel.  If anyone knew the way out, it would be a woman like that.  _But,_ _she could just as easily take me back into the city.  She might enslave me, too._   I continued forward as silently as possible so as not to alert the woman.  I was almost out of that little circle of orange light when the low tones of the Drow woman carried across to me.  

“Melaena, isn’t it?” I stopped.  The Drow had not even turned to look.  

I bit back a gasp and spoke as calmly as I could manage.  “Many have heard of me, it seems, being the Jewel of the Underdark.  But how is it that _you_ have come to know my name?”

“ _Many_ have heard of you.”  Her voice was thick with amusement as she parroted back my words.  

My hand slipped onto the hilt of my rapier.  “Oh?  Well.  I must be going.”  I started to walk ahead.

“Sit by the fire with me.”  The Drow extended one long hand to the side in an inviting gesture to an open space beside the campfire.   “You want to get out of here, yes?”

I hesitated.  _This could be a terrible idea._ But I sat down beside her.  The Drow quietly ate her fungus, until I grew to hate the silence.  “So.  You mentioned getting out of the Underdark?”

“I think a trade may be in order.”  

I folded my arms.  It bothered me that the Drow couldn’t even look my way.  “Go on.”

The Drow’s voice was amused.  “The way you were headed does not go to the surface, you know.  This road leads to a Dreugar city.  A rather _nasty_ one, at that.  You have no idea how to reach the Overworld, do you?”

I blushed.  “No.”

 “ _I_ do.”

I squirmed uncomfortably on the log.  “So what do you want for that information?”

The Drow woman was beautiful, with very clear features, and a small smile as she finally met my eyes.  “You see,  I am on the search for artifacts.  Very specific artifacts.  Do you know much about the gods?”

I shrugged.  “I mean… I’m a Bard.  I have to know the songs about them.  I don’t have much time for gods here in the Underdark.  Their gods are different from mine.”  The look on the Drow’s face was peculiar.  Relieved?

“Have you heard of Vecna, then?”

“Of course. Who hasn’t?  God of Death.”

“And secrets,” the Drow finished.  “Vecna keeps his secrets.  I want to _learn_ secrets.  And I am in search of something in particular.  I need someone to travel with, to look respectable, because Vecna is not accepted in most circles, you understand.  If you help me, as we travel, I am sure there are things that _you_ desire as well.”

As a matter of fact, I did.  Things left too long by the wayside.  “I want to find my mother.”  And, with no hesitation, I added,  “And, quite possibly, to kill my father.”

If the Drow was surprised by this, she betrayed nothing and chewed slowly on the fungus.  “Well.  Interesting.  Who is your father?”

“You may have heard of him.  A warlock by the name of Col Greycastle.”

A pause.  “I have not heard of him.”

I was always disappointed when someone did not know who he was.  It made it all the harder to find him.  “Well… I’m sure he has something to do with the disappearance of my mother.”

“I can help you get to the surface, and I can help you along the way as you look for your mother and father.” 

Her face seemed sincere, but I did not understand her plan.  “But then… How will we find your artifacts?”

“Simple.  I don’t know where they are, so I will search for them while we travel.  Does this sound like a plan to you?”

I nodded, excited that she might actually have help this time in my search.  So different from before, perhaps it would not end up with the same devastating results that had halted her progress for ten years.  I held out a hand to shake the Drow’s, but she did not extend her arm.    “One more thing… You will not reveal any of my secrets.  I don’t think I need to tell you, but I still have some contacts here in the Underdark.   I would hate to have to call upon their services.”

I dropped my hand and frowned.  “Who would I tell?  I don’t exactly have friends.  There’s no need for threats.”

She shrugged nonchalantly.  “Not a threat.  Just a statement.”

I didn’t like that.  But I didn’t have a choice.  “Agreed, then.  I won’t reveal any of your secrets.”

The Drow grimaced.  “That will have to do, I suppose.”  She stood up and brushed her hands on her robes before she placed the worn satchel over her shoulder.  “So.  Shall we go then?”

I nodded.  “Yes.  Let’s. Wait – what’s your name?”

“My name is Elanaste Do’tlar.  Sometimes.” The Drow smiled, and extended her palm at last.  “Take my hand.” 

It was warm, and felt like the first friendly touch I had known in a long while.  The Drow led her down twisting dark passageways, and while I could barely see, I was surprised to feel the Drow stumble every now and then.  But she was Drow.  Drow didn’t stumble.  Well, perhaps she was drunk?  The trip up was fortunate.  We passed a fire wasp looking for its hive mates, but managed to hide in a hollow between the walls, and let it pass.  But we were in a particularly narrow passageway when the Drow stopped her and pointed ahead.

“Kobolds,” she whispered in my ear.

Sure enough, there were several hiding behind rocks along the rim.  They thought they were being clever, but they were far too obvious.  The Drow took a step forward and shot one with a crossbow.  I jumped at the suddenness and accuracy of her shot, but drew my rapier, eager to help.  A Kobold rushed at me, and I attempted to use a move I had learned long ago - only I failed to make contact, and was hit instead by a rock from the creature.  

“Ow!  _Fucking_ Kobolds!”  It appeared the Drow woman was also struggling in her own way to deal with them.  She had a bleeding cut on her head from a rock.  My second attempt to stab my attacker was more successful, and the Kobold began to retreat, badly injured.

The Drow, however, seemed overwhelmed by the steady stream of rocks from the Kobolds before them, and a few reinforcements out of reach.  With an angry growl, she made a gesture, and a thin, ethereal hand rose into the air and flew at the two across from her.   The two Kobolds both collapsed together as the ethereal hand snatched some sort of light from each of their bodies.  

Terrified, a third Kobold made to escape and ran away from them down the corridor.  The Drow gave an ugly look and fired a single crossbow through the back of its head.  The Drow woman looked smug. I felt my rapier had been utterly useless.   Crossbow tucked away, the Drow stepped past Laena.   “Fucking. Kobolds.  Shoot them-“ There was a series of unintelligible grumbles,  “-Fucking face.”  The Drow leaned over the corpses of the two she had felled with the ethereal hand, and whispered something into their ears.  Then, she looked up and gave me a pointed glare.  “I’m trying to learn their secrets.  Do you mind?”

“Uh-oh, no.”  I turned around and moved a ways down the passage.  I was not one to step between someone and the rites of their gods.

The Drow came by a second later, rubbing a hand across her chin.  “Well.  Come along then.”  I stumbled along behind her, the Drow stomping a bit ahead, periodically muttering about Kobolds.  

I heard it first, before I saw it.  The _chirp chirp chirp_ of summer crickets, and my heart skipped a beat in my chest.  “Do you hear that?” I asked.  “Do you hear it?”  I ran ahead of her, despite her cautioning words, full speed ahead and around a bend.  It grew lighter, and lighter, a blue-sheen on the walls, and finally—

—I sucked in the cool, fresh air, light with the scent of growing things, and marveled at the deep purple-orange glow of the sun as it fell beneath the horizon line.  I knew there were tears on my cheeks, and I let them fall, let myself fall into the grass.  I lifted a handful of grass to my face, to smell it, and gripped more with both my fists, staring up at the sky, full with the moonrise and the faint glimmer of stars.  “I made it,” I said, my voice catching in my throat.

I looked behind me, at the traveling Drow.  She was staring at the sunset herself, and all around, as if she had never seen the surface before.  The grass she gave an especially peculiar look to, bending over and touching it with an extended finger.  She recoiled as a cricket leapt out and continued down the way.  I laughed. I could not help myself, and rolled in the grass for a moment, enjoying the sensations.  The Drow watched me, disdainfully, until I stopped and stood back up.

“It feels so good to be aboveground, again.”

“Laena, there is something else I have neglected to tell you.”  I stared.  She ran her fingers through her long hair, as I had seen her do many times before throughout the trip, only this time, it fell out, replaced by brown-black, wavy hair.  And then, she reached up a hand to her face and began to tear into the purple flesh, ripping it away, like webbing, to reveal the face of a human man underneath.

I backed away a little, holding my hand before me.  Was he a master at disguises?  How - how - “So - you’re - human? What?” 

“I am,” he said, his voice lower and richer.

I recalled the journey up.  “You stumbled in the dark.  Drow don’t stumble.  Gods… What’s your name now?  Anything _else_ you’re not telling me?”  

He chuckled.  “I have not lied to you.  I said my name was Elanaste only sometimes. And you may call me Tobias Ironwood.”  

I considered him.  “In actuality, this makes it much easier to hide you when we go about town,” I muttered.  

“I also have an Elven disguise.”

“What kind?” 

“Eladrin.”

That was coincidental.  “Well, when I get amongst my people, if I do ever run into them again, we can get you proper clothes.”

He almost seemed offended.  “I have procured Elven garments.” 

I looked at his semi-chain mail and plate again and frowned.  “Where I come from, I am nobility, so if you truly wish to fit in with me, I will get you better.”

He seemed like he wanted to say something else, but nodded once, curtly.  “Thank you.”  He looked up at the last rays of the setting sun with some measure of trepidation, or excitement, or perhaps even fear - his face was half shadowed already and it was almost impossible to tell.  “Well.  Where shall we go next?”

“Home,” I said, the true meaning of the word strange on my tongue.  “Or maybe to the nearest town.  I’m famished, and I’ve seen more than enough fungi to last me a lifetime.”  

He lifted a hand.  “Very well.  Let us go.  Lead the way.”

~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They've met! But it won't be easy. They are two very, VERY different people...
> 
> ...Also, why does Laena want to kill her father? What happened to her mother? 
> 
> And is Laena's time as an independent person running out before she's made into a thrall?
> 
> Only I know! I hold all the power! Bwahahahahahaha
> 
> Ahem. Next chapter up shortly.


	8. -8- Into Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laena and Tobias get to know one another, and aren't sure about what they find. Laena gets drunk, and chaos ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I recommend the song: "Into Darkness" by Thomas Bergersen (of Two Steps From Hell) for this chapter. 
> 
> Also, THE Tobias song is "I Come With Knives" by IAMX, so really anytime is good to start listening to that.

**\- 8 - Into Darkness**

The sun set quickly, and plunged us into darkness.  He lit a torch and handed it to me, as I was leading, and I guided us through the woods as we walked.   I could remember this place from long ago, when I traveled through before, and while some of the landscape had changed in ten years, it was much the same.  In the dim colored light from my torch, I watched him out of the corner of my eye.  Chiseled jaw.  Dark brown hair and trim beard.  Intelligent.  Good with a crossbow.  A man that would turn the heads of most anyone, really.  I was fortunate to have such an attractive traveling companion.  If only his good looks extended to good conversation, the journey would have been a lot easier.

“Is there a reason you are staring at me?”

I jumped.  I had not realized he could see me watching him.  “No.”

His lips curved into a small smile.   “All right, then.”

We fell again into silence as they walked.  I tolerated it for a time, but I was bursting with a thousand questions.  “So.  What are these artifacts you’re looking for, exactly?”

“I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I can only tell a member of my order.  You understand.”

I sighed.  “Okay.  Well, can you tell me anything so I know what I’m looking for?”

“No,” he said.  “I’ll know them when I find them.  At least, I think I will.”

That sounded confident.  “You think?  You mean you aren’t sure?”

He raised an eyebrow at me.  “And are you certain you know where to find your father?”

I blushed and was grateful for the dark.  “Not exactly.  I’m going back to the town where I was kidnapped.  I’m sure I will find answers there.”

He nodded once.  “You can fight, a little.”  He indicated the rapier.  

“I’m unpracticed,” I admitted.

“No.  Word traveled in the day before you were freed.  Word says that you ripped a man to pieces with your dagger – it was _not_ your mistress.”

“You knew more about me than you initially let on.  I could not have done that without her spell to guide me.  A spell that inspired me to kill, although I didn’t know how.”

Tobias laughed.  “You don’t know?  That spell works best when there is a natural violence inside of the person.  Some sort of fire to be brought out of them.  Clearly, there is something darker inside of you than you think.”

I shrugged, uncomfortable.  I didn’t like to think of myself as violent.  “If you say so.  But my Mistress was the only skilled fighter there – and she only lost because our attacker’s weapons were poisoned to destroy her.”

He was silent a moment before he spoke.  “You considered your Mistress a friend, didn’t you?”

My laugh was brittle, dry.  “How can anyone consider a person that regularly beats them a friend?”

He was staring off into the woods.  “I don’t know.  You tell me.”

“She was just one of the only people who had made my life down in the Underdark bearable – After she stopped beating me.  Her, and some of the kinder house servants.  And the man that took my virginity.  And you, who brought me back to the surface again.  Really, the only ones who ever showed me kindness.”

“Perhaps… perhaps.  But if she had not died, you _know_ that she would never have let you go.”

I nodded once, solemn.  “I am aware.  And I am, in actuality, grateful to whomever set me free.  Someone incited that attack – some cult.  Or so Mistress said as she died.”

His voice was soft.  “Oh?”

Vhaeraun followers would not attack without prompting.  Especially because she had lived all that time without being disturbed.  “Yes.  I mean, I’m angry they had to kill her.   But I am grateful for my freedom, regardless.”

He studied me in the half light.  Suddenly, without warning, he laughed.  “You are the strangest person I have ever met.  The way your brain works…” he shook his head.  “I have never known another like you. You view captors compassionately.  You served countless hash masters and mistresses in your time in the Underdark, a courtesan, forced to give your body and soul to so many, and yet you still see them as ordinary people, don’t you?  Why?”

I shrugged.  “Because.  If I viewed them any other way, do you really think I would have maintained my sanity all this time?  If I had to pleasure an orc, or serve wine to the highest member of the Drow court  - it didn’t matter.  They were all the same to me.  Just creatures with lives.  That’s all.  They did what they had to do, and I did what I had to do to survive.  Some of them were kind.  Some of them were not. That is the world.”  He did not say anything else to me as we paused to set up camp for the night, not even when he built the fire and sat on the other side.  “The way we are going,” I said, a few hours later as we sat to eat fish for dinner, “is to the last known residence of my father.  His summer chateau.  There, in the mountains.”  I started drawing a crude map, from memory, on spare parchment, and he watched my movements.  

He stretched forward, putting a hand on the edge of the map, tracing a dried path with a finger.  “And this town, this mountain chateau, is where you wish to begin?’

A hard flick of my wrist for the mountains.  “If you care to go with me, yes.  But we can go after your artifacts first, if you’d prefer.”

“I gave my word.  We will go.”  He hesitated, a finger paused on the map.  “You did not think I was really going to do this, did you?  You don’t trust very easily.”

I finished the map and started to roll it up.  “I have not had much reason to trust anyone over time, no.  But I intend to keep my word as well.  And if there is some information on these artifacts closer to us than this village, we should go seek it out.”  

He smiled and picked the map up.  “You thought you would get me to go with you by pretending to be indifferent about it.  And you thought I would not realize it.”  He used the map to point at me.  “You’re cunning.  I like that.”

I blushed a little and pulled the map from his hands.  I stuffed it into my bag roughly and settled down for the evening.  Within the hour, I was lying awake in my bedroll, uncomfortably aware of how closely I slept to a member of the opposite sex without touching him.  He was awake too, but staring upward at the sky.

“So many stars,” he breathed.  “It’s incredible.”

“You didn’t have them where you came from?” I teased.  

“It’s not that.”  He paused.  “I’ve spent the past years in the dark.  The Underdark.  It feels like a lifetime ago since  I’ve seen stars.  Or sunsets.  Or… grass.”  I smiled.  He sounded a bit like a small child, the faint wonder I could hear in his voice.  But he frowned then and turned over, so I could not see his face.  “It’s foolish,” he said aloud, as if he had heard my thoughts.  “It’s just the world.  Sometimes, I think, prefer the Underdark to this.  Grass is itchy.”

I giggled.  Then, in the silence that followed, I studied once again his jawline, and the flickering firelight on his face.  Truly, a handsome man.  I was a free woman now.  Why shouldn’t I allow myself to have fun of my own?

I scooted the bedroll a bit closer.  And then a bit closer.

“ _What_ are you doing?” His tone was short, annoyed.  He kept himself turned over, head resting on his arms.  

“It’s a bit chilly.  I am moving closer. To keep warm.”  I kept my voice light.  “Aren’t you cold?”

“No.  My bedroll and blanket are sufficiently warm.”

I did not want to be subtle.  I sat up, allowing my blanket to slide a little off my form, so it caressed the curves of my bosom under the sheet.  “I can keep us both warm, if you - if you want.”

He raised an eyebrow and turned at last to look at me, lifting an arm so he could see me better.  “You don’t even know me.  What makes you think you would want to lie with me in such an intimate way?  I could be a murderer.  A rapist.”

“I’ve slept with those and worse before,”  I said.  It was true.  

He sat up, grimacing.  He did not look happy.  Or, for that matter, desirous of me.  “No.  I am not interested in that sort of thing, Laena.  I have my own things to worry about, and naked flesh, or the pleasures thereof, is not one of them.  Go to sleep.”

He turned back over, pulling the blanket over his head, and I covered back up, defeated.  For now.  I did not consider this over, in any way.  

Our moods had not improved the next morning.  I felt I was truly starting to see the real Tobias. Neither of us had seen the sun for quite some time, having lived in darkness, and it hurt our eyes and made us grumble.  Tobias pulled his hood over his face, almost constantly cursing at the light, staying to the shadow whenever he could.  I was grateful for the warmth, but hated the fact it was so _bright._ We stayed under tree canopies whenever possible.  I had to admit, even before I was in the Underdark, the night time was much better than the day.  I longed for the sun to set.  The journey towards my father's home was just as I recalled - rocky and horrible.  Every step was painful after the noon had come and gone, and I groaned, glaring at the sun as I stumbled again.  “Ugh. This is awful.  I need a massage.”  He said nothing.  I frowned.  “My back hurts.  My feet hurt - everything hurts.  Nothing a good bath won’t cure.”  I waited.  He still said nothing.  Fine.  I would be more direct.  “When will we stop at an inn?”

His voice was biting as he let his pack drop to the ground.  “Are you aware you complain quite vehemently for someone who was once a slave?”

“I was a slave, yes, but Mistress had standards!”  I started to tick off on my fingers.  “There was the monthly massage and general grooming.  The hair stylist every few days.  The hot springs.  The dressmaker.”  He had actually stopped and was staring at me now as if I were something completely foreign to him.  “The Drow actually care about what their courtesans _look_ and feel like.”

“Their _courtesans_ , yes.  But an Eladrin whore should have been dead in a dark hollow somewhere within a fortnight.”  

I was silent.  “How dare you,” I whispered.

He seemed only amused, and he stopped under the shadow of a huge elm.  “You can’t deny that it’s the truth.  Drow hate Surface elves.  And you were the worst - their polar opposite.  If your Mistress had been anyone else, she would have had you beaten, starved, and sold to the highest bidder, who would have proceeded to kill you just for sport, in a horrible way.  That’s how the Drow are.  They have tourneys to see what creature can kill other creatures first.  It’s a game to them.”

“I know,” I said, my words and my throat tight.  “ _You_ don’t know what it was like when I first arrived.  The nights I spend outside, the beatings.  I barely ate.  Husband wanted the both of them to just fuck me and sell me off.  Mistress was the one who came up with the idea of the auction for my virginity.  I know that without her I’d be dead.”  The conversation had grown too heavy.  I could feel it on my shoulders, like a great weight.  I shook it off, purposefully not looking him in the face, although he was openly staring at me.  “I haven’t had a bath in three days,” I said finally.  “It’s been too long.  We need to find a river, or I will begin to scream.”

He chuckled, and picked up his pack, signaling us to continue. “You know, I rather like the idea of slaves sleeping on velvet.  Does it make them any less mindful that they are being kept in a gilded cage?”  

I bit back a string of curses.  “…Fuck you.  _No._   They’re _quite_ aware, thank you.”

“But still.”  There was more than a little dry humor in the manner of his raised eyebrow as he glanced at me over his shoulder.  “Where _I_ came from, slaves slept on beds of moss.”

My mouth fell open.  “That sounds barbaric.”

“Perhaps.”  His smile widened.  “But _our_ slaves never questioned their place.”

I ignored him.  “Came.  You always say ‘came from’ when talking about home.  Most people say ‘I come from’-“

“They do, but that implies they consider it home.  Or that they plan to return.”

Did his voice seem more melancholy, or… Angry?  “You don’t?”

His smile looked tight then, when he looked out on the horizon.  “Oh, I will return, someday.  And when I do, I will no longer be exiled for who I am.”  He didn't elaborate.  I knew if I asked, he most likely would not tell me.  

His words made no sense to me.  His mannerisms made no sense to me.  I was sick of it.  When we saw the straw roofs of a village before us, I cried out in excitement and ran ahead of him.  I had gold to spend, and I was a free woman.  I was tired of our bickering, and wanted a hot bath. 

The town was small, and wary of strangers.  They watched us cautiously as we made our way through, and I ran to the town’s small, cozy-looking inn.  “A bath, please, and a hot meal.  And wine, if you have it.”

Tobias’ voice was right behind me.  “You’re drinking, now?”

“I’ve got to have fun somehow, spoilsport,” I said, raising a cold shoulder to him.  He didn’t have to join in.

“I’ll pass,” he muttered.  “But I’ll be nearby.  Don’t do anything rash.”

The bath was divine.  I changed into something a bit more seductive, but still town-worthy.  No sense in attempting Drow fashion. That would only confuse them.  The tavern wenches admired my harp and my hair ornaments, and we laughed over them for a while, before the town locals started to come in for the evening.  By nightfall, I was already a few drinks in, and laughing with a group of men and women, playing dirty songs on the harp.  Tobias sulked at a nearby table.  I tried calling him over, but he ignored me, holding his glass of mead and staring at the wall.  So I drank more.  I did not care.  This was my gold now, and I would spend it how I wanted.  My laughter grew a little louder, my words a bit slurred.  The company loved me.  They introduced me to their friends.  Ah, I hadn’t been permitted to get drunk in quite some time.  Not really.  I faked it, often, but wasn’t allowed to let my senses get the better of me in such a way before.  So this was my night to enjoy.

The crowd was distracted, amongst themselves, and I was ordering another drink from my seat at the bar.  A man not much taller than me, and fairly handsome, sat at the counter beside me.  “Good evening, my lady.”  

“Good evening,” I said, giving him a radiant smile.  I could hear Tobias scoff from his place at the table.  

“And where might you be going?  This little town isn’t really anywhere.”

“I’m off to seek fortune,” I lied.  “And adventure.  And fun.”

“You seem to be having that now."  He looked down.  My blouse had become a bit skewed during course of the evening, and it gave him a good view of my cleavage.  “But we could have more of it, if you wanted.”

I glanced over at Tobias.  “Oh?  How so?”

The man’s hand snaked around my waist, and he leaned over.  “I could show you.  If you’d come up to my room.”

I thought about it.  It would be exciting. He was handsome.  But.  I had my sights set on someone else.  “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t like leaving too many loose ends when I travel.”

“Come on. A girl like you, alone on the road without a man to protect her?  I could give you some travel advice in my room, and we could see where it goes.”

“I’m not alone- and really? That’s your come-on?”  I giggled.  “Not very good, is it?”

“You’re halfway undressed already, little Elf.  Come with me.”  He tugged on my waist. I Iet a leg down to stop myself from falling, and propped a hand on the counter edge for balance.

“I’m really okay,” I said.  I didn’t like how pushy he was being.

I felt, rather than heard, the presence of two others come up beside me.  “Dresden.  Marcus.”  The man nodded to them.  “Don’t you think the little elf should join us for a little fun, tonight?”  

“She’s a pretty one.  Bet her cunt is even nicer.”

“Get your hands off me,” I said.  I cast Vicious Mockery at the man who had approached me first, but the wine had made my aim weak, and it missed. 

He cursed though, the magic strong in the air.  “You trying to jinx me, you bitch?  I’ll show you - “ he drew out a dagger too quickly from his side, and while I dived back, it still sliced a little into my right forearm.  I cried out, the stool falling to the ground. 

Behind the man, Tobias stood up fast.  He rolled his eyes, then raised his palm.  A blue, spectral hand appeared between myself and the man.  I recognized it from when we fought the Kobolds.  It reached towards the man, and then into him – through his chest.   With a terrible sound, like a tear in fabric, Tobias ripped the soul from the man’s body, and his body fell to the floor.

I gasped, a hand over my mouth.  His friends lunged at Tobias, and they, too, fell dead to the hand a moment later, which did the same to them.  The patrons began to scream. 

Unfazed by the chaos, he stood up and brushed his hands together.  “Well.”  He sighed.  “I suppose this means we should run.”

~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chill Touch as a cantrip. Gotta love it.
> 
> Whoops! Don't piss off an Illithid, I guess...
> 
> Our characters have finally begun the long process of getting to know one another, and boy is it... painful. We are approaching the time of lemons, though, (not next chapter but soon) so hang in there my friends!


	9. - 9  - The Art of Subtlety Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aftermath of the tavern. Baby goats. Whom is in control of the money now. Intimidation.

-9 - The Art of Subtlety Part One

I glared at him, the hem of my second best dress torn beyond recognition. My wounds stung with sweat and my feet were sore from running in the soft soled dancing shoes I had donned for the night over my usual boots. It had been over an hour and a good distance between us and the tavern. We were paused at the edge of a great forest, the dappled moonlight casting weird shadows on our faces underneath the black canopy. 

He leaned casually against a tree - a familiar stance from the past few weeks, but somehow it irritated me even more under the circumstances. “I just don’t understand why you’re so upset,” Tobias folded his arms. “I saved you, didn’t I? He won’t bother anyone else, ever again.”

I flailed in frustration. “You can’t kill someone for something like that!” My foot cramped up and I cursed. How could he so unaffected? He had just killed a man. 

“He’s done that sort of thing before. Everyone hated him, it’s fine.”

“No, it’s not fine! Tobias!” I scoffed as I rubbed the arch of my foot and muttered into the darkness. “How do you know that? How could you possibly know that?”

His chin rose in a defiant gesture, made all the more intense by the night. “It was written all over his face. It was obvious.”

“It was not obvious to me! And now we can’t go back to that area ever again. We’ve probably got a bounty on our heads. You-“ I paused, and took a deep breath. I released my foot and placed a kind hand on his shoulder. I spoke slowly, measuring my words “Tobias, I am grateful to you. I really am. But next time someone tries that, could you please just punch them?” Tobias looked down at his spindly body and back up at me. He waved his hand across his chest as if to say, Really? He was thin, true. But. “Well, killing him wasn’t necessary!” I sputtered.

“My god is Vecna, remember? He’s not the god of candy and sunshine.” 

I let my hands fall, my voice low in defeat. “It’s impossible to reason with you. Never mind.”

His voice was so calm. I hated how calm it sounded. “You can reason with me. But if you’re reasoning against me? You’ll never win.”

“You’re unbearable! I don’t know if I trust you,” I said. “You are too easily unfazed by death. On top of it all, you appeared out of nowhere, said you knew of me beforehand, and just happened to come along with me.”

He was quiet for a moment, smiling. His mouth looked black, even with the moon. “Then you’re not as senseless as you seem,” he said. “You’re right. You shouldn’t trust me.”

I turned away from him and folded my arms before my chest, as if the protection would keep him from bothering me. “Your arrogance is astounding.”

“And you irritate me, too,” he said in a singsong way. “And yet here we are. Traveling together. Why is that, do you think?”

“Because you need me to look respectable,” I said.

“No.” His tone was amused. “That only explains why I am traveling alongside you. The question remains – why do you stay with me? You could easily leave at any time and go on your own.”

He was right. “I don’t know.”

“I think you do!” He approached me and narrowed the gap between us. “You see… You need me.”

Need, or want, Laena? A traitorous voice in the back of my mind interjected it. I squashed it. As if that were true! “I need you like I need a headache.”

“You’re wrong.” He stood directly above me. I refused to look up at him. He leaned over, and his arm touched the tree trunk behind me. I was trapped between the forest and his arm. “Firstly, why did all of that happen back there? You got drunk. You got careless. You wasted gold tonight on a party,” the disdain for the word was thick on his tongue, “and three people are dead because of it.”

I opened my mouth in shock. “Because of me? Because of-“ 

He shushed me. “You’re incapable of governing your own actions. You need guidance. You aren’t used to acting on your own. You make silly mistakes and can’t handle money to save your life. It’s true – don’t argue with me.” She had been about to. “And maybe even before that… You lived life according to the rules of others.”

“I was my own woman,” I glared up at him. “I did what I wanted to do when I went after my father.”

“How did you end up in the Underdark, then, Laena?” His voice was not unkind. It was genuinely curious. I looked down at my feet as tears sprung to my eyes. “Well?”

“Because I fought two of my father’s stupid thugs on my own,” I whispered. “I almost died. I killed them both - but - but I was dying when Laqualyn and Husband found me.”

Tobias did not move to embrace me, as many would. He let me cry, silently, merely staring down at me. “Laena, listen to me. You are intelligent. You are brave – foolhardy, I might say. And yet, you don’t know how to fight. That rapier is as good as useless in your hands. You’re out of practice, and you’re slow.” I looked up at him then, a biting response on my tongue, but he raised his other hand, his finger on my lips. “No. Listen. Don’t talk for once. You need someone to protect you. You can’t even heal yourself,” he removed the hand from my lips and snatched my arm. He lifted the wound higher so I could see the blood that had pooled there. I tried to cast my gaze elsewhere, but he purposefully twisted my arm around so I could not avoid it.

“Ow! Stop it! I don’t need a man to protect me,” I said. “I never have.” But I blushed, and I hated myself for blushing.

“You’re right, you don’t,” he said. I shut my mouth in surprise. “But this is not about me being a man and you being a woman or either of us being in this situation at present. I am telling you the same thing I would say to you if you were a woman or another man, or a child for that matter. You cannot protect yourself right now, but I can, and I will - as part of my promise to help you through your journey. I will not see you come to harm. I gave you my word, and I keep my word.” He leaned back, and folded his arms across his armored chest. “Are we clear?”

“Yes.” 

“Good. Then I don’t want to hear another complaint from you when I save your life.” He glanced to the side, and he almost looked sheepish.

“All right. I will stay your hand if you attempt to kill for such a stupid reason, again.”

He grinned, that rare roguish look back in his face. “You can try. Now give your arm here.”

“I’m fine.”

“Give it here!” He ordered. I moved my arm towards him and he took it between his hands. He healed me with a few whispered words. He did not let go for a moment.

“Thank you,” I muttered. It was not clear, even to me, if I thanked him for his behavior at the inn, the healing, or the scolding. I wasn’t sure if it mattered. Either way, he gave a cocksure smile, and let my arm fall.

“Let’s go.”

~*~  
The mountain town was a welcome sight, wandering goats bleating loudly at us as we pushed past them on the narrow path. Tobias seemed curious around the goats, as if he had never seen them before. “Have you never s-“ I started, and he rushed forward, darting between them. Then he spotted the small kid between the adults. His face was lit with something I had never seen before - genuine excitement. The usual disdain he held for all things seemed to melt into an almost childlike enthusiasm as he reached out a hand. The kid nipped him, and he did not seem a bit fazed. I went to his side as he patted the black kid on the back and scratched the now curious mother goat under its bearded chin with his other hand. 

“She likes you, that goat,” I said. Mother goat tried to eat his shirt and he moved a little away, laughing. 

“No, no, goat. Not my shirt. That’s not food.” His head whipped wildly around. “What do they eat? What can I give them?” He searched the area and saw the long grasses some of the others munched. He grabbed a handful and held it out to the black goat. It sniffed it. He bit his lower lip, his eyes wide with fascination as the goat began to eat out of his hand with its long teeth.

My mouth was open. I could not believe this was the same man that had killed someone in cold blood a few days before. I bit my lip, watching his gaze follow the goat herd’s movements. His wide green eyes met mine, and for the first time I felt like I was actually seeing him. The real him, and not the taciturn, angry person he used as a shield the rest of the time. Then he spoke, his voice high and joyful. “They’re - so - cute!” 

Those three words made my heart skip a beat. I giggled. Tobias did have a softer side, and it was adorable. A girl could fall for a sweet man like that. The goat bleated at him as he hugged it. “And loud, too! But smelly.” He paused and sniffed, looking at the goat and then up at me. “I hope that smell is from them and not you.” 

Well, a girl could almost fall for him, if they overlooked the fact he was a complete arse. “We both need a bath,” I said defensively, glaring at him as he stood up. The kid, released from the prison of Tobias’ arms, bleated again and ran off after its friends. Mother goat followed “You don’t smell like roses, yourself. You smell like mud.”

His look could have killed. You would have thought I’d insulted his mother. “That’s it. Give me your gold.” 

“What?” I looked at his open hand, which snatched the bag from my belt without trouble. “Hey!” I scrambled to grab it, but it was beyond my reach before I could do more than scrabble at his hand. 

“I’m buying us both baths. And anyway, I’m in control of the money from here on out. I decided. Unless you’d like to get it back from me.” He tucked it against his chest, behind the armor. I blushed as my hand stopped short of my grab and brushed against the leather and metal. He grinned. “I thought not.”

What was wrong with me? I was never one to be shy around men, and yet he had me blushing like some sort of helpless virgin. As if I’d never come across his type before. I clucked my tongue and rushed forward. I reached around his back for the space between his armor and the thin linen of his shirt. As my hand brushed his bare skin, I felt his intake of breath, more than I heard it, in the sharp expansion of his toned muscle. At the same time, with lightning reflexes, he had my wrist in the grip of his hand, and I gasped in pain. He moved only slightly, extricating my hand, but pressing his arm between my breasts as he forced me away from him. My heart beat a little wilder than I anticipated, but whether from the adrenaline of trying to get the purse, or from the sudden and awkward closeness of our bodies, I was uncertain.

“No,” he chided, releasing my wrist with a throw. “The coin purse is no longer your concern.” He seemed to sense my discomfort as I held my wrist, checking for a nonexistent bruise, because his voice softened. “Don’t worry. I will not recklessly spend your money. It is merely in my safekeeping. It is still yours.” I noticed he did not meet my eyes once during his diatribe, and he shuffled down the road ahead of me without another glance. 

We approached a hamlet. Small, cramped, and rather bustling for the middle of nowhere. From what little I could remember of my father, I doubted he would waste his time on anywhere too out of the way. Then again… I barely remembered him. “Are you sure this is the place?” Tobias said, as though echoing my thoughts. “Didn’t you tell me your father was rich?”

“He lived in a chalet up the hill,” I said, pointing up a ways. “But I want to ask around town. I don’t wish to see him directly. Not if I can help it.”

Tobias raised an eyebrow. “Afraid of him?”

I bit my lower lip. “More than afraid.”

“Why?”

I pushed past him, fighting the memories that surfaced at his question - memories of my mother cringing, of the bruises, the blood… “No particular reason,” I bit out, and walked ahead of him now. “We need supplies. I trust you can part with some of my precious funds for that?” 

He chortled, genuinely amused at my frustration. “Mmm, perhaps. Depends if your definition of supplies includes wine and men.”

I glared. “Oh, yes, I plan to have every man in town to bed before nightfall, and I plan to drink only the finest wine available at the best inn.”

He ignored me. “There’s a store right there behind you,” he said, and pointed. 

I turned. “Good. Let’s see how fresh their supply of handsome men is.” I stepped in first. Shelves were stacked three high of some sort of pottery and mugs, tankards and bowls. Dirty objects stood out with surprising prominence throughout the room, with cramped handwritten signs. 

The place seemed empty, until a Halfling man popped up behind the counter, all smiles. “Hello! Can I interest you in a genuine Dwarven spoon?” He gestured to a heavy wooden spoon on the counter. Tobias and I approached, and I lifted the spoon. It was too heavy and elaborately carved to be a real Dwarven spoon, and I pursed my lips. “Um, yes… that’s…”

“My friend here was wondering if you had an endless supply of handsome men in the back,” Tobias said smoothly. His eyes glittered with amusement as I glared at him.

The Halfling blinked. “What?”

“What he means is, I have something I would like to trade for gold.” I pulled out a golden bracelet from within a breast pocket. Tobias’ eyes narrowed. He clearly hadn’t expected me to have more funds somewhere. “I believe it is worth at least 30 gold.”

The Halfling picked it up and let it slide between his palms, weighing it. “Hmm. I’m not so sure. It’s definitely not Grodegan gold.” He set it gently on the counter, folding his hands on top of it. “I’ll give you twenty for it.”

“You’ll give her the full value of it, or I’ll burn the place to the ground,” Tobias said. 

Mouth open, we both stared at him. But I had no choice but to play along. “He’s crazy. He’s killed for less. He’ll do it.” 

The Halfling swallowed once, cleared his throat, and said, “Let me just get my assistant here to help.” He ducked his head around the back. A moment later, the top of the curtain parted to let through the huge bulk of a half-orc woman. Her expression took in Tobias, and myself, and she lifted a huge knife above the countertop.

I gulped and took a step back. “We should leave,” Tobias muttered just loud enough for me to hear. 

“Twenty five gold, you said? I think we can manage that,” the Halfling said. The Half Orc lifted a towel and revealed a large block of gold. Then, she lifted her knife and chopped off a small chunk. Cleanly. He took it and weighed it on a scale, and nodded. They both looked at us. 

“Here,” the Halfling said, plunking it down on the countertop before me. “Any moneychanger will take our gold. And by the way, I will even throw in a free mug. Hilda my dear, will you give them that mug there?” She put the tankard down directly in front of Tobias, who was not taking his eyes from her. I tucked the gold away quickly into my breast pocket.

“My clever wife.” The Halfling smiled. “Anything else we can do for you?”

I swallowed my fear. I’d been intimidated before. Many times. I wasn’t ready to step away from information I needed now. “Just a bit of information. On someone who used to live up in the mountain, in a chalet there, at least ten years ago.” I spoke quickly, but tried to keep the tremor from my voice, with little success. 

“I am very new to this town,” the Halfling said. “But my wife is a born and bred native. Ask away, perhaps we know.”

“Someone by the name of Greycastle. Nicolas Greycastle. A warlock, some say.” Hilda’s eyes grew huge at the name. She knew who he was. I spoke faster. “Please- it’s very important. That man is my father, and I believe he has harmed my mother. Anything you might know-”

“Go.” Hilda spoke very firmly. 

“What?” I said. “I just-”

“Go now. Leave.” She gestured with the knife at the door. Standing up to intimidation only works for so long before the need to flee sets in. I turned and bolted.

~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Laena's dad seems like a bad dude... 
> 
> I'm listening to a ton of Elysian Fields while writing this story and finding it very appropriate to both characters and mood. 
> 
> Not related to this at all, but I am in the film Jem and the Holograms. Not like, as a major character, but it's official - I will be on screen, FULL onscreen, for like 20 seconds at the start of the movie. I give you three guesses to figure out who I am. Hint - look for a harp. I had to wait to announce it until the movie was done and out there and they couldn't cut any more out sooooo yeah. I'm in it. Huzzah!


	10. - 10 - The Art of Subtlety Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Small children. Memories and dreams. Offering. The art of subtlety.

** -10- The Art of Subtlety Part Two **

“Why did you have to go and ask them that?” Tobias was trailing just behind me as I moved down the street.  

“Because we didn’t have all the information we needed.  I came here to find my father.  We could have gotten the gold from somewhere else.”  I took the chunk of gold and held it out to him, stopping by a wide alley that stretched between houses.  “Here.  Take it.  You’re in charge of the gold now, and all.”

He did, quickly putting it away before anyone could see it.  “I liked them,” he said simply.  “They knew how to intimidate.  You could take a lesson.”  My lips were pressed tight when I looked at him again.  “You have no gift for the art of subtlety.  Your emotions read as cleanly as if you shouted them to the streets.  I am better with reading people than most, but - “ He chuckled.  “You’re like a candle flame in a dark room.  Everyone can see you burn.”

“I was a courtesan,” I protested.  “I knew how to hide myself from the world.  I was in high political circles, a lot of the time.  If I hadn’t been able to hide my real emotions and feelings, I would have been killed.”

“Perhaps,” Tobias said coolly.  “Or perhaps they let you think that.  They enjoyed your spark.”  He thought hard.  “Or, more likely, you were better in those sorts of situations.  The politics of the bedroom or a court dinner are unlike being on a street or in a shop, talking with simple folk.   You want to slip into the headstrong young girl you were ten years ago, yes, searching for your father?”

I wouldn’t meet his eyes.  How was he always so good at reading me?

“I suspect that this situation with your father is much closer to your heart.  And the closer something is to your heart, the harder it is for you to hide your passion.”  

“Then… Teach me to be more like you,” I said. “You’re good at being subtle, unless you’re killing someone for a dumb reason, or trying to threaten them with burning down a shop.”  

His lip quirked.  His demeanor changed suddenly, completely.  He looked suave, calm, confident, there was even a kind tilt to his eyebrows.  His voice was filled with emotion. “I know all the right motions, and all the right things to say.  Even the words to say to get someone to trust you, utterly.” He moved his hands emphatically with the words.  “But sometimes—“ And the mask fell away, the expression solemn once more as he returned to his sullen, frustrated self.  “I just don’t feel like doing it.”

A small ball thwapped Tobias in the back of the head and he cursed and whipped around - a small child approached from the mouth of the alley.  A half- _something_ , nondescript, and small toddler played in the street.  “Ah.  A _child,”_ Tobias said the word as though it were foreign.  “Hello, child.’

The child ignored him, retrieving the ball from where it had rolled and running right up to me.  “I have a note for you from Momma.”  

“Why, thank you,” I said, taking the note and drawing it to my chest.  “And who is your Momma?”  And as I stared, I could see something around the eyes and face that reminded me startlingly of the Half Orc back at the shop.  I opened my mouth to say something, but the child was already bouncing the ball against the side of the houses.  It took one look at Tobias, and threw it again at his head.  It giggled and ran down the road, back towards the shop.  

“Thank you!” I shouted after the child.  

Tobias was cursing softly under his breath but tried to sound nonchalant as he called, “Here, child! Come back!  Haha - I love to play!” 

His voice sounded so insincere that I giggled.  “You really are rubbish with children.  You’re much better with animals.”

“Don’t see much difference,” Tobias muttered, “except that animals have better manners.”

“Hush,” I chided, unfolding the note.  It read simply one word.   _Winborne._ “That’s the capital city,” I said.  “It’s a good distance from here.”

“Well.  We’d best get started if we want to find your father.”  Tobias took a deep breath and wrinkled his nose.  “Right.  Baths first.”

 

~*~

 

The water of the bath was so soothing and warm.  It was not as hot as the springs in the Underdark, especially as the servants had taken so long to fill the copper tub between whatever other tasks they had, but I could care less.  After the past few days, it was heavenly.  I rested my head back, against the side of the tub and sighed heavily.  So relaxing…

... _Mother had crowned me.  I was twirling before the mirror-glass, smiling widely.  It looked like flowers and vines were wild upon my head and she clapped her hands at my enthusiasm.  “Ah, my little pixie,” Mother kissed my cheek.  “You look so grown up already.”_

_Her head rested beside mine, and I compared our features.  Her ears were much longer and shapely than mine - which were close to my head and only slightly pointed.  Her nose was aquiline and long, but mine was short and up-turned ever so slightly.  But we had the same eyes, and my lips were tiny replications of hers.  I hoped they would look as nice on my face when I was her age.  I gave her a big smile.  “Will I be pretty like you, mother?”_

_“You’re a Teldragion,” Mother said, raising her head.  “And not just any.  You are Melaena Teldragion, daughter of Proserpine Teldragion.  We are some of the_ **_most_ ** _beautiful.  And the world knows it.  Men will fall at your feet like flowers.  They’ll give you pretty things, and try extra, extra hard just to speak to you for a moment.  Someday we’ll take you to balls in Winborne and you’ll see.  You’ll be a proper Lady.  We are of noble blood, you and I.”_

_I smiled.  Her dress was far too big on me but we had tied it back with a sash in several places, to look more respectable.  I heard a commotion in the hallway and Mother frowned, looking behind us.  “Hold on a moment, Pixie.  I’ll be right back.”  She stood.  I heard the servant and Mother conversing for a moment, then the soft sashay of her gown as she walked away.  I settled back onto a pouf and made faces in the mirror.  But she was still not back, and I was bored, so I went down the hallway after her._

_“Mother?” I called.  There was no answer.  I went around the corner, and my feet felt suddenly wet and sticky.  I frowned and looked down, and saw my bare feet and the hem of my mother’s dress were stained red with blood.  I screamed, and saw the servant girl, Meliflua, face blank and eyes empty, her body sprawled on the floor._

_And Mother was gone._

_She would not come back again._

I awoke only because someone was shaking me, and I could feel my face wet with tears.  Tobias stood over me, a look of genuine concern and consternation on his face.  “You were screaming,” he said.  “Are you alright?”

“I-”

“ _Look_ at me!” He grabbed my face and looked into my eyes.  For a moment, I felt like I was back in the memory and I almost began to scream again, but he hushed me with a few soft spoken words.

The door opened as a servant girl poked her head in.  I did not hear what he said, but she was gone a second later.

I gripped his shoulders as I stood up, and then wrapped my arms around him, curling my head against his chest and breathing in the vanilla scent of him, steadying myself.  He did not return the embrace, but neither did he push me away.  

The bath water was cold. I then realized I was still standing in the bath, and I was clinging, naked, to Tobias.  I gasped and grabbed for the nearby towel, wrapping it around my form and stepping out of the tub.  He seemed completely indifferent.  “Was it a dream?” he asked.  

I nodded once.  “I dreamt of my mother, when she disappeared.  The servants were all dead.  No one saw or heard anything.   I - I remember so much blood,” I choked on the words, and he was handing me a glass.  

“Drink.” He commanded.  I took a gulp, and almost dropped the glass.  It was some strong alcohol, and it burned, but he grabbed my hand to steady my grip.  “Drink,” he said again, a little softer, and I did.  

When I could feel the burn all the way into my stomach, I spoke again.  “They did not know what had happened.  It was like she was a will-o-wisp, vanishing by sunrise.  They searched for her but it was so halfhearted.  I know it was.  They - they knew it was him, somehow.  Everyone knew, and yet no one would go after him, no one would - “ I took a deep, shuddering breath.  “So I had to.  I was eight and I knew I had to, because no one else would.  So I studied rapier, and I learned as much as I could from the humans in the town, and the elves that would actually talk to me and when I was sixteen…” I looked up at him, my eyes wet with tears.

“You ended up nearly dead, and in the Underdark,” he whispered.  

“Yes,” I said.  “In a way, my father won.  I never got to find him, or my mother.”  I sniffled.  “In another way, getting out of the Underdark is my second chance to try again.  It’s because of you, you know.”

“So I’m your knight in shining armor.”  His voice was thick with sarcasm.  I couldn’t help but laugh.

“We laugh, but in a way, you are.  You saved me.  And you saved my life again.  I _am_ grateful to you.”  I hesitated, and took a step towards him, my hand on the edge of the towel.  “I don’t have much to offer you, but-”

He held out a hand.  “I already know what you want to give me.  But you are tired, and confused, and believe me - you don’t know what it is you are offering, and if you did, you would not be so eager.”  I opened my mouth to talk, and he talked over me.  “I am firm on this point, Laena.  You are trying to make your way in the world as a new woman.  As Laena Teldragion.  Not the Jewel of the Underdark.”  He raised an eyebrow.  “Would Laena Teldragion offer her body in exchange for services rendered?  Or is that the action of a whore?”

I bit my lip and held the towel against my body.  “I’m...sorry.  You should leave.  It’s late.  And you probably shouldn’t be in here with me right now.”

Tobias nodded once and stood, sighing as he stared down at his shirt.  “And now I must change shirts.  Look.  You’ve soaked this one through…” He trailed.  The tone of voice might have been flirtatious on another man, but with him I could not be sure.  I blushed anyway.

He turned, his hand on the doorhandle.  “Laena.”

I looked at him.  

“We _will_ find him.”

I nodded, and he closed the door.

~*~

**FIVE YEARS AGO AND BEYOND TIME**

_Mentor, what is that?_

He pointed at the object.  It had four long, ivory-colored flutes, seemingly centered in one mouthpiece, covered in at least a dozen holes each.  

_That?  That is a bone-thriven, made from the bones of my past thralls.  It is a small one, but I prefer it.  The ones with too many flutes get a bit ostentatious and ridiculous.  This one is just right._

_It plays music?_ T’qou tilted his head.  _I don’t understand music._

_What exactly don’t you understand about it? It is an expression of emotion that goes beyond words._

_What’s the point of that? Why use music to express an emotion when you have words? Thoughts?_

_But that is the very art of subtlety,_ Mentor said, his tentacles curling with his amusement.  _Musicians will access emotions and feelings you can’t even begin to comprehend, wordlessly.  They access emotion that is impossible to put into words.  And a good Illithid knows how to project thoughts as he plays, taking the listener on a journey of multiple layers.  Music is subtle in a way speaking is not.  It speaks to something beneath the surface._

T’qou stared at the flute in his hands, feeling it’s weight in his palms, still uncertain.

_Take it.  I’m far too busy for such pursuits,_ Mentor said.  _Who knows? Perhaps it will do you good to play.  Subtlety is not the way of a young Illithid.  It might train you to be a bit moreso._

But he could never get it to obey him.  His tentacles felt like they flopped uselessly against the holes, the grip too lax, his breath control weak.  So he had cursed and set it aside for weeks.  When he picked it back up again, it was with dogged determination, to play - to make a sound - and finally he could do so, shrilly screeching out his first tones, and then slowly finding the deeper, darker notes that required less harsh breath.  But he had nothing to play.  None of the emotions he felt in the resonance stones could be reflected in the music.  No matter how hard he thought.  Then, when his Mentor died, he was left suddenly with nothing else to do.  But also, no one to hide from anymore.

So he tried something he had been itching to do since leaving the Illithid - he played the sea.

One note at first, a long low sound, like the depth of the ocean.  And the soft fluttering of the waves.  And then more notes.  And the laughter he remembered - the burn for life.

He had almost dropped the bone thriven, feeling somehow he had touched on something he was not meant to know.  

It had lived in a bag ever since.  And he did not think about it again.  His pursuits of music forgotten.

~*~

**NOW**

She was a strange thing, like a moth drawn to flame.  Why was it she continually offered him her body, her heart? Her head? What was it that made her want to share herself with him all the time?  It irked him to no end, her constant need to share, and at the same time, he felt himself recalling the long hours of simply sharing an emotion without having to speak at all.  Words were so useless.  

When she crept, later, into the common area of the room they would be sharing - “not beds though,” she had insisted, her pale face going into a wide blush  - “definitely not beds” - she was pulling something from her things.  Oh.  The harp.  He had nearly forgotten about it.  She was fussing over it, using some small object to fiddle with pegs along the neck of the instrument.  He could read in her mind, she wanted to tune it.

“Play it, then, and have done with it,” Tobias said.  “You don’t need to sit there pretending I can’t see you.  I know you haven’t touched it in days.”

Laena’s eyes widened as she turned to him in the candlelight.  “I thought you were asleep in that chair.”

“Just thinking,” he said.  “I like to think.”

She came forward then with the harp, smiling.  “I haven’t played it since before Mistress died.”

“Out of practice then, are you?” he teased.  

She tuned by playing one note at a time.  When she reached the top string, she stopped and put the key down on the floor beside her.  “Are you sure I can play?   I don’t want to disturb you - I can go somewhere else.”

“No.  Go ahead.”  He closed his eyes and settled down.

The times Mentor had played bone thriven, it had sounded cacophonous.  And Tobias had never gotten it to sounds as beautiful as the time he had played the sea.  So he did not know what to expect from this half-elf - this creature that could barely comprehend the depth of emotions in a way that an Ilithid could - or hear the way joy sounded, or smell the way sorrow did.  There were things she could never understand.

And then, her fingers brushed across the strings, and began to play softly, and he felt his breath catch.  It was a slow and subtle start.  But once the song began to grow, he felt the full power of it hit him.  Every note, every sound was like a tug somewhere inside of him, pulling emotions that had been hidden away.  Not just the music itself… the sadness in her playing, the depth of her sorrow, he could feel it tangible in the air, and hear it just on the surface of her mind like an ocean rolling over him.  She was recalling the time spent with her mother, and the feel of it moved him.

It actually moved him.

He was facing away from her, towards the fire, and as soon as she stopped playing, his hands stopped gripping the arms of his chair so tightly.

“Well? What did you think?”  Her face so bright, and yet such a darkness behind them. She could barely contain the sorrow.

“It was diverting,” he said simply.

She pushed for more compliments, but he brushed her away, and she went to play downstairs in a huff.  He was glad for it.  

Mentor had been wrong.  Music was far from subtle, if it did not wish to be.  Laena's music was loud and gripping and a cascade of feeling.  And he could not handle any more emotion, today.

~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My favorite harpist (being one, I do have one) is probably Kim Robertson, so I would recommend listening to Water Spirit as the song that she plays. It's my go-to "sad song" when I want to play something with lots of feeling. 
> 
> We hadn't been in Tobias' head for a while so hopefully that made things more interesting! 
> 
> And even better things to come... oh just you wait....


	11. Chapter 11: To Winborne!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Practicing. Too much light. A good looking man and the trouble he brings with him. A new way to make money.

**CHAPTER 11: WINBORNE**

 

 

“I’m exhausted.” She let the sword fall to the ground and followed it soon after, as she breathed heavily.“Must we continue to practice like this?”

 

He swung his own rapier over his shoulder with a false bravado.Best not to show how tired he was - more than her, it seemed.She was sweaty and breathless, but appeared otherwise unhurt.He had several scratches, none particularly deep, but that, alone, humiliated him.He healed his pains with a wave and straightened up.“I’m surprised you’re so weak,” he taunted.“I thought you’d been trained by a master swordsman -“

 

She raised an eyebrow.“Swordswoman.”

 

“Whichever.” Tobias leaned against a tree.It supported his shaky legs and made him appear merely cocky, instead of exhausted.He could heal the pain, but his body would still feel muscular strain.That would require baths. _Ah, baths… Inns_ … _Soon._ “You wanted to find your father, and we traced his path.We found the way to this small town mentioned by the orc child.But on the way, we cannot afford to lose any of our strength.We must continue to practice.”

 

Laena sighed and took out her waterskin.She took a deep swig and held it out to Tobias.He shook his head, took out his own waterskin - twice the size of hers - and downed it in under a minute.She raised an eyebrow. “Thirsty, much?”

 

“One must stay hydrated,” Tobias said softly.He glared up at the sun.“In this sort of weather, anyway.”

 

Laena stared at him appraisingly.“You’re quick.On your feet.”

 

“As are you,” he said before he could stop himself.“But you could always be faster.”Couldn’t have her thinking he actually admired anything she did.But. She _was_ fast. 

 

“You’d probably make a good dancer,” she mused.“I’d like to try, sometime.”He did not respond.He had never tried it, although he suspected he would master it like he mastered anything he tried.Seeing that he was not rising to the bait of the conversation, he cupped a hand over her eyes to shield them from the bright sunlight and stared across the green hillsides which surrounded them.“How far is this town?”

 

His shaky legs would have to wait.No matter.“Not far at all.Should be there within the day, if we keep moving.Let’s stay to the forest edge, and shade. Come on.”

 

~*~ 

 

Tobias seemed to hate the light, as usual.He stayed to the shadows, and I followed close behind, half of the time in the sun, the rest of the time in the shadow.Periodically I would take my sword and sharply _thwack_ some of the tall reeds, displacing ticks and who knows what else. My mind was buzzing with thoughts, a constant stream, as I wondered about my father’s whereabouts.About my old friends, long since grown and dispersed.About how, many years ago, I had wandered hills like these beside my mother.It was a wistful thought, full of dandelion seeds and spiky grasses, lost springs and summers I would never get back, no matter what I wanted.Most of all, I wondered what the strong, tall man beside me wanted most.Would he be satisfied to walk the earth with me?Or would he want more? I could not tell just by looking at him.Right now, he just looked more than a little overheated.He stopped twice to refill the waterskin and drank at least two skins full before we left the second stream.“You should slow down a bit,” I said.“Wouldn’t want to make yourself sick, now, would you?”

 

“I’ll be just fine.Just keep walking.”Their walk took them to the very edge of the forest.It was high noon when they finally saw the spires of s large city.With a loud, growling sigh of something akin to frustration, or exhaustion, Tobias left the tree line and walked under the hot sun with a groan.He put up his hood.

 

“It’s really not that bright,” I said.I felt the heat where the sun had already burned my shoulders through the edges of my thin fabric blouse, and I grimaced.“Well, maybe a little.We can rest here - ”

 

“We can make it!” He said, and pushed on ahead, almost running up the hill.I followed close behind.The money purses, not well-reattached after their fight, fell to the ground.He stared at them for a minute, and waved a careless hand.“ _You…_ carry…”I grabbed them with a swoop as he ran ahead and made the top before me.Panting, exhausted, we crowned the hill and, in the valley below, saw the sprawl of Winborne.

 

“Oh, my…” I trailed.Its spires reached heavenward.The buildings towered, almost comically tall - unlike any I had ever seen.The cobblestone streets made weird leylines in-between the housing and businesses.But the city itself was surrounded by a huge, white wall, as white as sand, as blindingly bright as a god’s soul.I swallowed hard, tears in my eyes. _Mother was going to take me here._

 

“Maybe, maybe not,” Tobias said, hands on his knees as he panted. “There were other towns she could have chosen to take you.”

 

I paused and nodded.“I would have thought she-“ My voice ran out, suddenly, as it occurred to me what had just happened.My head turned to look at him. 

 

He straightened in an almost comically slow fashion, and would not look me in the eye.I heard the groan of frustration leave his lips.“You didn’t say that out loud, did you?Damn.” He stared a hole in a patch of weeds.

 

I almost laughed.I must be mad.There was no way.“How did you - “

 

“ _Damn.”_ He sighed.“Well.What’s done is done.The kobold’s out of the sack.Sometimes I have the ability to tune into other’s thoughts..”He rambled faster in his embarrassment.“Big skill, learned from my death god.A gift, as it were.In short -I read minds.”

 

I was so quiet at this, he turned to look at me.I could feel the heat on my body and knew my cheeks and exposed breastbone had gone a violent shade of pink, as they always did when I was embarrassed.My mouth opened and closed several times, as I started and stopped a sentence.I stared at his boots.When I could finally speak, it was more of a shriek.“ _What_?”

 

“I read minds.”

 

I tucked my hair behind my ears.“I mean, I mean, no.No.No, no, no, no, no - But did you - have you - been _listening_? Oh, gods!“I covered my mouth with a hand, and my ears matched my cheeks.“Oh, gods!You _did_ hear me!”

 

For some reason, this seemed to give him back some of his strength.He smirked in a most irritating way.“Don’t worry. I have no interest in your lusty daydreaming,” he drolled.“Or - night dreaming, either.”

 

I shrieked and gave him a sharp slap on the arm.“Those - those thoughts - _private_.”

 

“Not anymore!” He practically sang.

 

It made sense.“I should have known… Those times you responded so well to me.I should have realized.”

 

“But you didn’t.And no matter.”He snatched one of the purses from me.

 

I held my hands open, staring at him.“That one’s mine.”

 

“I don’t care,” he said.“They’re about equal weight.”

 

“Pardon me, gentlefolk, but do you know the best way into the city?There appear to be three gates.”A man, clad all in leather and donning a black feathered cap, nodded to us as he approached. “Hello.And _hello_ , milady.”

 

Tobias was no competition for this man.I was struck speechless by his careless grin - and for a moment, so it seemed, was Tobias.“Hello,” I replied, finding my tongue first.“We are but travelers ourselves and do not know the way in.”

 

He approached me, looking me over.“A fine woman such as yourself, never having been to Winborne?I find that very hard to believe, indeed. Perhaps we can journey into the city together, unless-“ he was near enough to touch me, and he smelt so strongly of fresh pine trees and woodsmoke I almost couldn’t breathe.He rested a light hand on my shoulder.“I’m sorry, is she your companion?”He spoke to Tobias.

 

“Yes,” Tobias said, quickly.“She is.”Like that, the spell was broken.The man brushed me as he passed and again I was enthralled by the scent of green forest.“Ah.Pity.Well - “ he waved a hand.“Perhaps I will see thee within these beauteous gates, my friends.”He smiled, teeth practically glowing they were so white, and disappeared in a practical canter down the hill.I stared after him, wordless. 

 

Tobias was glaring.“Stop thinking.”

 

“I-“

 

“He was horrible. _Really_ , your thoughts are irritating me now.I could _see_ that, and I-“ suddenly, he stopped, and looked alarmed, back down the hill at the man.He rushed to my side.“The second coin purse.”

 

I looked at my hand, where it had been a moment before.I looked around, at the ground.“I must have dropped it-“

 

“No, no no no,” Tobias sounded genuinely distressed.“No!I needed that I-“ He began to run down the hill, but the man was nowhere to be seen.Tobias strained, as if listening for a sound far away, and cursed.“Damn.Damn it all.It’s gone.He stole it.”

 

“We don’t know that,” I began in a feeble voice, but I stopped.He had brushed past me when he left.I had felt the bump - that telltale sign of someone pickpocketing.And I hadn’t even realized.I had been blinded by his handsome face.“I-I’m sorry-“

 

“You don’t even know what was in my purse,” Tobias snarled, a dark visage unlike himself, almost purple in rage.“You have no idea-“ He was not angry at me, I realized, but the thief.“When I get my hands on him…”

 

“ _Shh._ He’s gone now.We should report him to the local sheriff, and then see if we can’t find it.”

 

Tobias paused, closed his eyes, and breathed, as though trying to calm himself down.“All right.All right.If you say so.Let’s go see this… sheriff.And pray he knows something of that man.”

 

~*~

 

“That’s Captain Montaghue.And you won’t be seeing those coins again, mark my words.”The round-bellied man laughed, wiping a tear from his eye.The guards around them exchanged mirthful, secret glances.They were laughing.At him. Laughing at him.

 

But as though she could read him like a book, that tiny hand lit on his shoulder, to calm him.He turned, almost snapping at her like an angry dog, but settled at the look on her face.She was afraid of these men.Why?Just because they were authority?No authority to _him_. _He_ answered to _no_ one.He- He took a deep breath and felt as though his proverbial hackles settled.She nodded, once, and he turned back to the man that dared call himself a sheriff.“Listen.It is very important I find this man.He took something irreplaceable to me.Just tell me where he’s known to go.I’m capable of taking care of myself, and my companion is a formidable foe as well.”

 

She was smug at that.Let her be smug.The sheriff stopped laughing then, looked awfully serious, and leaned back on his haunches.He eyed the rapiers, then, and his armor.“Well.I reckon you two could take care of yourselves.Either of you use magic?”

 

“I do,” Laena said quietly.Tobias grunted. 

 

The sheriff nodded slowly.“You’d need it, going up against him.He could charm the pants off of a dragon, that one.”

 

“Dragons don’t wear pants,” Tobias said, at the same time Laena said, “I know, I saw.”

 

The sheriff took out an old roll of parchment and laid it out on the table, pointing to the map’s surface.“That bandit is known to wander through the local towns.His favorite spot of late is a town a few leagues from here - Stropshire.But it’s a disparate place, lots of thieves, lots of travelers.Quiet, though.Good place to get your bearings before you move on.”He eyed Laena.“Not the sort of place for a lady to wander alone at night, though, if you catch my drift.”

 

“Fine.Just show me where this shire is.”He leaned over the map and took in the directions as the sheriff told them - in the most wandering way possible.Why couldn’t people be succinct when treasures were at stake?As soon as he felt he knew the way, he stormed out of the small building the sheriff called a courthouse.Laena ran after him, breathless. 

 

“Tobias!Tobias!”He did not stop, merely stalked towards the city gates.“Wait a moment!”

 

He whirled on her.“Because of your carelessness, we have to wander after this thief.Because you let your womanhood think, instead of your brain, something more precious than you could imagine has escaped.And perhaps most detrimental to our plans, because of your stupidity, we now have to abandon the plot to search for your father here because we cannot afford to stay in this town with your meager wages.”He shook the coin purse, which was much thinner than his had been, even if he had said otherwise.“We are now behind in the plan to find your father.If he escapes again because of this mess, you only have yourself to blame.”

 

He stopped then, perhaps because of the stricken look in her eyes, or the way she lowered her gaze as he continued to yell.Or perhaps it was because some of the nearby peasants were staring at them, whispering.He sighed, exasperatedly, and reached out to her. She flinched, expecting to be hit.He didn’t know why, but that made him angrier.“How many times must I tell you?” he bit out, barely louder than a hiss.He grabbed her chin, then, and forced her head up.“Look at me.”Her eyes traveled slowly up his face, and rested finally just under his eyes. When they flickered up at last to meet him, they were filled with tears.“You are no longer a whore,” he whispered.“Stop acting like one.”He released her, and continued forward, away from her. 

 

There was a moment before her footsteps followed.Her thoughts were a torrent as they flashed out at him, and finally, she tugged on his sleeve.When he looked again, her face was flushed in anger.Her voice came out in trips and starts as she fought back tears.“Wh-what is it you want? Do you want the q-quiet, obedient whore?Or the noblewoman?You c-can’t seem to make up your mind.”

 

“I just want you to use your damn sense!” He said.“Enough.This is not the time or place.”He pulled her along behind him, and this time, she meekly followed.But she had a point.What would be more useful to him? 

 

 _A willing thrall,_ he thought. _Obedient but level-headed._ He snorted, aloud, and she glared at him, unaware of the turn his thoughts had taken. _A wonderful idea.But that doesn’t exist._ “We need a way to make money,” he said aloud.“And we aren’t going to whore you out.Any ideas?”

 

She thought for a moment, and nodded, a determined glint in her green eyes.“I’ve got an idea.”

 

 

~*~

 

There were two choices in this town for an inn.The rooms in this one were more than moderately priced, but the alternative was less than pretty.I stood facing the proprietor, my harp in my hands, swallowing hard with nervousness.“A bard, you say?”The tall, bald man stroked his hairless chin.“I was quite a bard myself, once upon a time.We could do with some new music.”He flexed his broad chest.“Care to come and play tonight? In exchange for your room?”

 

“I’ll play more than one night a week for two gold, and one of your best rooms.”I spoke with more confidence than I felt.

 

The man chuckled.“The lady’s got guts.Definitely a bard.Well, show me what you’ve got.One song.Only fair to audition people looking to make a wage here.”

 

I sat back on the nearest stool and cleared my throat.A song, then.A Drow song from below the earth - something these folks had never heard. Something worthwhile.Something good.I started, and the words fell away from me like glass, the phrases shattering on the floor.The inn was mostly empty this time of day, but I saw the heads turn.I had learned how to make an audience listen - truly _listen._ And they were like putty in my hands, malleable the longer I played.There was a delicate motion to my wrists as I played, the rise and fall capturing them and forcing them to watch me.Watch me play.And then, the last chords, only a few minutes later but with what felt like hours.My hands fell to the sides, and then returned to muffle the strings without a single buzz.

 

The few patrons there whooped and hollered, and I bowed my head in mock modesty. 

 

The innkeeper was looking at me oddly, then, as if he had never seen the like of me before.“Well.” He grabbed a pint glass.He reached under the counter and pulled up a dusty bottle. He poured a rich, amber liquid into the glass until it was full and set it in front of me.“This here’s my best mead.Finish it right now, and you’ve got yourself a deal.”I looked at the glass in front of me. Then at him.I grabbed it, and tossed it back as if it were no more than water. A hiccup, and I slammed the glass back on the table. 

 

I could almost feel the lightness of the mead as it swept through me, like bubbles. I coughed.We shook hands.He held onto my hand longer than was necessary.“I-“ I started to speak.The room seemed to go slightly dark.My harp was safely on the floor but I went to reach for it anyway and almost took a tumble.“Whoa!” The innkeeper laughed and lifted me up as if I weighed no more than a rag doll.“Poor lady, looks like the mead went straight to her head.Hold on - I have something for that.”He swept me back into the kitchen with him, and before I could blink, he had slammed me into the wall.I cried out in pain, and he placed a hand over my mouth.His eyes were no longer glittering and happy, they were dark and angry. 

 

“Elf.Where did you learn the music of the Drow?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! Finally back. Sorry for the delay. Thank you for all the reads and kudos. I'm excited. 
> 
> I'm adapting this into an original novel (with much of this changed) and have an editor I'm working with. I'm just gonna keep posting this here until I need to delete it...
> 
> Other news, my album is almost done and ready to drop. I'm going to be on tour soon. AND I wrote a song that is a fandom song for Laena/Tobias called Poison. Can't wait for that to be out! Ahhh!!


	12. Secrets and Kittens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secrets! Kittens! And Secrets and Kittens! Mysterious old books. Shadow dancers. And did I mention a kitten?

CHAPTER 12: SECRETS AND KITTENS

 

His hand released my lips so I could speak.“W-what?” I said, shocked.No one knew that music.No-

“Who sent you?” he barked.“Was it the Shadow Dancers? What are they playing at?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” I said, honestly.I realized that I couldn’t lie even if I wanted to.“My mistress mentioned the Shadow Dancers before, but I never met them-“

“She did? Who was your mistress?” he said.

“Laqualyn,” I responded, simply.“She taught me the music.I learned it from her.”

His eyes widened, and he released me, leaning back.He was staring at a point far off, above my head.“I see.I see.It makes more sense, now.”He looked back down, eyes narrowed, distrustful.“Why are you here?”

“I’m looking for my father.His name is Col Greycastle.”

The innkeeper  placed a hand over his lips. “Now that's a name I haven't heard in quite some time… Listen to me. He's not someone you just go seeking, you know.”

“All the same, he took my mother and I need to find him.”

He studied me.“Listen to me.”His words had a sudden weight to them, and I did listen.I leaned in close.“You will not remember anything that just happened.You came back because you felt lightheaded, and I gave you some water and let you sit for a bit. You fell and hit your head - cracked it on the stones a bit.”I nodded.I felt everything he said was absolutely true.“We got to talking, and your father came up.Here’s what I told you - there's a fella you should see at the Broken Barstool. Not somewhere I would just wander into lightly, mind, and definitely stay away from the house ale. But his name is Greg, and he will definitely be able to help you some.”

“Thank you!” I chimed, happily.What a helpful individual.

“You won’t remember this either, but it feels good to tell someone.”He hesitated.“My friends and I used to go out exploring together.We went down, into the Underdark, and ended up in the service of a monarch there.You follow me?”I nodded.“While there, I came into possession of some music that was most unusual.The monarch had a bard in her service - a special bard.A Shadow Dancer.Her name was Laqualyn.And while there, I took it upon myself to study what they knew.To write it in a book.They’d take it from me now, if they could ever find it but - “ he smiled.“They won’t.But you didn’t hear any of that either.”

Everything he said was fuzzy, except the part about Greg.I remembered Greg.He leaned in again, and breathed in the scent of my hair between his fingers, and looked longingly at my lips.“If I weren’t happily married, I’d have some fun with you before I let you go, little elf.”He stepped back, releasing my hair.“But those days are long behind me.”I still found him suddenly attractive, even though I hadn’t thought that when I first saw him. 

He paused.“And if you suddenly get a package in the next few days, it’s not from me,” he said.“You don’t suspect me at all.”

“Not at all,” I said. 

He nodded.“Good.Go on, little elf, back out to the house.We have a deal.You’re my new bard.Thursday nights, and Tuesdays, perhaps.”

“Sure!” I could not believe my luck, and with such a handsome proprietor, too.I left the kitchen, beaming, and walked out just in time to see Tobias come in the door.He looked harried.“Tobias!”

“You’re awfully happy,” he muttered.“I suppose it worked?”

“Yes!I’m getting two gold a week, and the best room.”

His eyes narrowed.“The _best_ room?What am _I_ supposed to stay in?”

The happiness that had been bubbling up inside me for all this time suddenly vanished.“I- I mean, I did it for a reason.The nicer a room I stay in, the more noticeable I am.Before we go back to Winborne, I wish to reinstate myself as a noblewoman.”He snorted and started to walk out of the room.“Wait! Wait!” I followed after him.“In Winborne I promise you can have a nicer room than me! Just be patient, please!I did it for a good reason!” 

He folded his arms in front of his chest.“I don’t like it.But. You used your head for once.So I will let it slide.”He brushed past her.“Show me to our rooms.”

~*~

She walked with a new fervor in her pace.He was not immune to it.Whatever this town lacked in basic commodities and size, it seemed to be doing her good.“It’s this way,” she led the way with an outstretched arm, pointing at a building across the square.She was buoyant, like a young child.“Come on!”

“And you’re absolutely positive that this…Greg…will know something about your father?”

“That’s what the innkeeper said.”She paused at the door, reading the notices posted.“Oh, they have a bard playing here, too.”She went in, and he followed with a sigh.

“Hello?” she called, and was greeted by a young woman behind the counter.Yes, the clientele in this building was not exactly fashionable, or, perhaps, on the right side of the law.It was also mostly empty.A drunk was asleep somewhere in the corner, snoring.Tobias didn’t mind.No one was having violent thoughts towards them, and that’s all that mattered.The thoughts directed at his companion, well… He grimaced.He could have done without those images.

“I’ll have your best mead, and my companion will have-“ she looked to Tobias.His glare silenced her, and she became sheepishly silent.How dare she be so forward as to try and order _for_ him.Perhaps this town was doing her _too_ much good.He cleared his throat. 

“Your house ale, whatever that is.” For some reason the girl paled and tried to mouth something to him, but he ignored her.What made her think she could be in charge of this show? What sort of world was this coming to?He took a swig of the ale and immediately sputtered.It felt like his throat was on fire.

The redheaded woman laughed.“Oh! That would be our rotgut, yes.I was surprised you asked for it.”

Tobias wiped his mouth with a free hand, furious.“Is this swill even legal to sell?”

The woman’s eyebrows lowered.Her guard went immediately up.“It’s perfectly fine.The problem is your ability to tolerate it.”

“Oh, he’s in a bad mood,” Laena touched the woman’s arm for a moment.“I turned his advances down earlier.Ignore him.”The redheaded woman eased back, and they began to exchange pleasantries. 

He glared at the back of Laena’s head, sighed, and went back to his drink.He’d have some things to say to her later.He listened in, half to them, half to the room.“So. What brings such a fancy lady here?”He caught Laena frown out of the corner of his eye.Yes, she had gone to lengths to speak with the innkeepers wife and ask about local fashion in an attempt to fit in.Despite the fact she had changed to breeches and a blouse, the fine quality of her clothes still set her apart.

“I’m looking for someone by the name of Greg.”

The girl behind the counter hesitated.“Why, I don’t know anyone by that name.”

_Liar,_ he thought, and wished he could say it aloud.But it seemed his companion was keener than he thought.He almost heard the magic in her voice as she spoke, and saw her hand making strange movements under the level of the counter.He moved his body so they wouldn’t be visible to anyone else.“Your hair is so pretty,” Laena said.“Like spun fire.It just glitters as it catches the light.”

The girl’s face eased into a smile, and a blush.“Well.Thank you.”

“You know, I think there might be someone named Greg that comes here sometimes,” Laena said, still in that carefree way.Her voice was lilting.He just barely got caught up in it himself, shaking his head to free himself.“You can trust me.Tell me about it.”

The girl’s face looked pinched and thin suddenly, and tears came to her eyes.“It’s so terrible-“

“What’s your name?” Laena purred.The skin on the back of Tobias’ neck prickled suddenly.

“Sophia,” the girl replied.“A-and I’m so worried about Greg.”

“Shh, shh, it’s all right, dear, tell me.”Laena was speaking faster now.Why? 

“He’s gotten into some sort of trouble.Had to hole himself up in the basement.I don’t know why.He barely speaks to me, or eats and -and - “ she sniffled, wiping her face on her sleeve.“I think he ran into some bad characters with his last job.”

“I’m going to go check on him, Jennifer,” Laena said.“Would that make you feel better?”

“No- no - I don’t want him to get hurt!” The girl said, her eyes wide.“He told me not to send anyone down.”

“It’s all right,” Laena said, her voice thick with a spell, “We are friends of Greg.”

The girl hesitated for a moment, looking suddenly confused, and then nodded.“Okay.I mean, I suppose.”

“Thank you,”Laena stood and indicated with her head for him to follow.Dumbstruck, he set down the ale and followed.She pushed the basement door open, unnoticed by the nearby patrons too focused on their card game, and Tobias followed.The staircase smelled like mold and damp - sort of like home.

“This smells familiar,” Laena said at the same time.He almost smiled despite himself.It was dark except for a few torches, and she almost ran down the steps. 

“What was that back there?” he said.“How did you manage that?”

She turned at him and smiled.“I am a bard, after all.Now let’s hurry.That spell on her won’t last long, and I want to get out of here before she realizes I’ve charmed her.”

“Heavy handed,” he scolded.“But…Necessary.”

“Was that a compliment?” she said, and he could hear the grin in her tone.Gods, but he wanted to slap it off her face. 

“Just find him.”It didn’t take long.There were noises from a room down the hall, what appeared to have once been a storeroom.Now just soft muffled sounds as someone spoke quietly aloud.Tobias reached past her, and knocked.He would not be following her the whole time. 

“Who is it?” a voice said through the wood. 

“We’re Jennifer’s friends,” Laena lied smoothly, her voice like silk.“We are here to check on you.”

There was a pause, and the voice sounded suspicious, but not as much as probably warranted for the situation. “She wouldn’ send someone, would she?”

“She did,” Laena said. 

He opened the door merely a crack, and a grizzled, unwashed man peered through the space between the door and the doorframe.“Hmm.Never seen you before in my life.”

“Please,” Laena said, some of the honey gone from her tone, “I need to ask you about Col Greycastle.”

The eyes widened.“Now why would a lady like you be -“

The rotgut had made Tobias careless.“Is that…” Tobias inched just past her as movement inside the room caught his attention.“Is that a…a kitten?”

The man looked at him, taken aback, and cleared his throat.“Oh, aye, that’s Patches.I take care of ‘er.”

Tobias was dying to go inside. He eyeballed the inside of the dim, dirty room.It matched the disshelved man.“Is it all right for an animal down here?”

Greg shrugged.“I mean, seems to be all’ight.We feed ‘er scraps from the kitchen, some rotgut, you know.She hunts.She’s fine.” 

There was the slightest crack in the veneer of Tobias’ composure at these words.“You. Feed. It. Rotgut?”

Laena must have sensed his budding rage, because she spoke over him.“What do you know about my father?”

“Well, Old Col - I never worked with him directly.Can’t reckon I know anyone who did.I ran with a different crowd back then - and they worked for him.”

“What did they do?”

“Odd jobs that needed doing.Nothing legal, o’course.But it was a decent living, and I hacked it until I couldn’t anymore.But there were rumors of other things, you know.Bad things.They talked about - rituals he did-“ he whispered, even though they were in a basement and a floor away from anyone else who could hear.“Said he had a taste for blood.And not just a little of it, either.A lot.Gives me the shivers.Really dark stuff.He’s a powerful man, and not one to mess with lightly.Don’t go looking for him.”

“Unfortunately,” Tobias cut in, “we must.Tell us where we can look for him.”

Greg looked up and down the corridor, past them, and a tiny white and orange kitten almost got out.He nudged it back with his heel and it took every bit of Tobias’ strength not to reach out and strangle the man.“I shouldn’t be tellin’ you this. There’s a man after me.Name of Montague.”Laena and Tobias groaned simultaneously.Greg looked surprised.“You’ve heard of him?”

“He stole some things of ours,” Laena said.

Greg chuckled.“Aye.He does that.Anyway, he has worked for Col in the past.He might know of his whereabouts.You’d do well to ask ‘im.Tonight’s a big holiday in town - lots of locals celebratin’ the changing’ season.Sometimes he comes out to wine and woo women.If you’re lucky, you might find him there.But if I were you I’d pick up another strong body or two.You’re both, well.”He stopped midsentance, because he noticed Tobias’ half plate.“Well, half of ye can fend for yourself, but the other half I’m less sure of.”He nodded his head at Laena.Laena looked furious now. 

“Thank you for your help,” Laena said.

“Didn’t help none.Don’t tell anyone I told you nuthin’.”He started to shut them back into the hallway.

“Er- listen.I want that cat.” Tobias pushed Laena aside, one hand on the closing door.“I’ll buy it if I have to.”

The man looked surprised.“I mean, I’m not sellin’ her.She’s company down here, and I like it that way.”

“You’ll be giving me that cat, and you’ll do it now, or you’ll regret it,” Tobias said, his hand on his rapier.

Greg’s eyes narrowed.“Listen, I don’t-“ But in a streak of orange and white, Patches ran out the door and down the dark hallway.“Patches! Patches!” He was very large, and as the door opened, he sighed heavily.“Right.Well, she has a mind of her own.”He closed the door. 

After a moment, Tobias saw the kitten walk right back down the hall.It stopped at his feet, looked up at him, and mewed.“Yes! Yes!You recognize that I am not going to harm you!” He picked up the kitten and it began to purr and settle in his hands.He could not describe the feeling that came to him then, but it was similar to butter melting in the sun.Something very warm.He was smiling.It reached up and began to bat at the place just under his chin, and he winced.“Yes.Good kitten. Ow.Good kitten.Ow.”

Laena giggled, watching them.He glared at her.“What?” he snapped.She was looking oddly at him for a second.She rubbed her eyes.“I thought I saw… never mind.Nothing.”He tilted his head.He knew what she had thought she had seen, and he lowered the cat so it could not longer bat at him.Just in case.“Let’s go back,” Laena said.“We have hours before the festival, but I want to get ready after lunch, just in case.”

“This is more your territory than mine,” Tobias said, stroking the cat with a hand.“Lead the way.This time, and this time only.”

“Whatever you say, sir!” She waved a careless hand over her shoulder laughing.He was not laughing.If he ever got the opportunity, he would teach her to never sass him again.Unfortunately, he had cat items to purchase now.And that was more important.

As they walked back upstairs, hurrying past the busy Jennifer, it occurred to him that pets were not something he should be keeping.But he pushed that thought back, back far into his mind.It was not something he wanted to think about right now.Not when there was a cat to take care of.

`*`

When the book arrived, it was silently, without warning or note, and the most interesting thing I had ever come across.It was wrapped in parchment paper and addressed to our inn and my room, with my name written in a beautiful, looping script.But little else.The leather cover was black and intricately embossed with gold, although untitled.I discarded the paper on the floor.

“What is it?” Tobias asked gruffly.He had been quietly reading by the fireplace in my room - he had changed into “plainclothes” and bought things for the kitten.Now, he was in my room.He insisted my fireplace was warmer, even though I was almost certain we shared the same walls, despite his room being located a floor below.I turned the book over in my hands and opened it.He frowned.“You’re just going to open it, like that? Without checking for any magical traps?”

“I - should have,” I admitted.“But perhaps it’s word from home.I sent a letter out by courier to my old swordmaster.”

“And did he - she - address it?” Tobias folded his arms before his chest.“You’re a careless sort.”

I bit my lip and ignored him.I ran a hand across.It seemed so familiar, somehow… I opened it, and saw the note, and the name.“This was from Laqualyn’s city.In the Underdark.”

“What?” Tobias was beside me suddenly and snatched it from my hand, to my protest.He turned it over and read the title and flipped through it, studying it closely.“There’s not really any magic to it… It’s a magic tome, but it’s not dangerous.”He seemed almost disappointed.“Hmm.Fine.You take it.”He dumped it unceremoniously into my open palms.“I wouldn’t understand the music, anyway.”

“Music?” I repeated, even as I turned the first page and saw the sheet music.“Oh, my.Oh, my!”

“All yours,” he said, as he left the room.

I became immersed in the tome until I missed lunch.It took several reads, as the day faded into night, before I began to recognize the strange symbols printed above the staves. They were the same as the short hand for the secret language Mistress taught me.My eyes traced the page, putting the music together with the body movements required by the symbols - and I felt shock as I recognized the melody. Lethal Inspiration.It was the spell Mistress had used on me during the battle, when she had died.“Oh, my.”This was how Shadow Dancers were made.

I looked up at the darkened window and gasped, setting down the book.“Oh gods, the festival.We’re going to be late.”I looked longingly at the book and groaned with frustration.There would be time to read it later.Now, I had a party to get to.

~*~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, next chapter is a doozy... here we go.


	13. Wishes and Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You know the saying "Be Careful What You Wish For?" Laena learns the hard way. Stop drinking from strange goblets. The Cap-i-tan! Lightning Weapons. Somebodies in trouble....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song in this scene is definitely “Salterello” by Stary Olsa (2013 version from the Santa Maria album.  It is on Spotify.)  “Pasterz”, by the same, “Totentanz”,  followed by “Balkano”, is awesome for most of the rest of the chapter.   This band rocks for cool medieval sounding music.  Also, because the language is Belarusian, (and I can personally say despite knowing a good bit about a few languages, I know absolutely no Belarusian,) it is a lovely, unusual foreign language that fits right into most fantasy roleplays.   We’ve used it as background in a lot of games.  Highly recommend 10/10.
> 
> If Belarusian isn’t your thing, but you want a cool medieval dance song, just search “Salterello”.  It’s a particular dance type, and you’ll get some neat variations.  I also recommend Poeta Magica, which I’ll probably be introducing in some later scenes…
> 
> The end, er, you’ll know when, leading into the next chapter, is “Cantario” by Brevis, V. Kiscen, and Stary Olsa.

 

CHAPTER 13: Wishes and Time

     The festival lined the streets.Every villager was out and about, and there was a huge bonfire erected in the square.The noises and sounds were almost overwhelming, but I almost enjoyed it.It reminded me of home.What’s more, it even reminded me of the good times in the Underdark. There weren’t many, but I recalled a particular time I had to dance before a crowd on a great stage.There were stilt walkers and fire performers - and I danced to a sultry number and removed my clothing piece by piece… those were the good times.Even I enjoyed myself.Mistress hadn’t minded if I got drunk.But this seemed to have a slightly more… religious … bent than the festivals I had known.The villagers were rowdy, though, and they swung by, spilling beer or mead as they caroused. 

Tobias did not seem amused.He glared around at the noise.“Villagers and their damn superstitions.They took ancient traditions and mashed them together and call it a religion.”He snorted.

I nearly choked on my mead in my laughter.“You really don’t believe in gods, do you?”

He shrugged.“I do, _I_ just think they’re not as powerful as everybody believes.”

I shook my head at his audacity.“Careful. You’ll make them angry.”

“Let them be angry,” Tobias whispered.“Someday I’ll be as powerful as a god.”

I giggled.He looked furious.“You’re quite confident of that.”

“Yes.I am.” He bit out.“If you’re going to mock me, I’m going to walk away.”He started to move, but I grabbed his arm. 

“No! No, stay.It’s fun!Please?Pretty please, with ribbons and kittens and lace?” 

He hesitated, his eyebrow quirking at my words.After a moment, he groaned.“Fine.I’ll stay, but only because you invoked- the kittens.”I laughed.Well.He had a sense of humor after all.Or perhaps, he did not wish to be alone.We were silent for a moment as I sipped my mead and he stared out at the dancers.“How is something like this fun?” he whispered.“And _where_ is that thief?”

“Don’t worry about him.He’ll turn up.Just enjoy yourself a little, for once.”I sat the goblet down on a nearby empty table and held out both my hands to him.“Come on.Dance with me.”

He looked horrified, staring at my hands as if they would bite him.“Absolutely not.”

I pulled my hands back behind my back and rocked on my toes.“Huh.You seemed so light on your feet when we practiced rapier.I _assumed_ you’d be as good at dancing.But clearly, it’s not a strength of yours.”

I saw his fists ball up tight.“ _What_ was that? _What_ did you just say to me?”

I flicked a careless hand at him, and turned away, towards the crowd.“It’s all right, you don’t have to be good at everything.”

He was hovering just beside me, a rigid, angry thing. “What? I -No.That’s ridiculous.Of course I can dance.I am not stupid.”

A sly smile spread across my face.“Really? You seem more the bookish sit in a corner type. It’s fine.”

“I can _hear_ you thinking about me.But I _can_ dance.I’ll _prove_ it to you.”He took me by the hand and led me to the side of where everyone was dancing.Just enough out of the way.His eyes gleamed in the firelight, with a sort of fierce pride.It had worked, of course, as I knew it had, but I tried to hide my glee behind a thousand other thoughts.Just in case he was trying to listen in.As it was, he seemed almost nervous.He waited and eyed the other dancers.He lifted a hand up in the air, took mine delicately, and began to walk widdershins, like everyone else.Clap. Turn. The other way.Arms tucked together, moving forward, towards the bonfire with the others, then back.I suddenly gasped and realized it was because I had been holding my breath the whole time his hand was on my arm.

Did he smirk? Or roll his eyes.In the half light it was impossible to tell.Then we were pushed close together by the next movement, chests almost touching, hands still raised at head height, circling each other in an almost predatory fashion.His face was so near mine.I could see him now, his eyes were distant, as if reading off a page somewhere else, instead of here beside me.The next movement, we locked arms again, went around the circle.Now we were nearer the pastures, and the fence, and yet we still switched directions, turning under the arc our arms made.A quick switch of our feet, the other way.Then, he brought me beside him, against his chest facing outward, our hands locked before us.Most of the other men were taking the opportunity to kiss or grope their women.Some were welcome, others were not.A few got slapped, a few light giggles spread throughout the group.My partner felt tense.He _was_ light on his feet - I was not wrong about that.And his steps were impeccable. Perfect.Not missing a beat.But.There was something missing in his movements. 

It took another clap and turn, for our bodies to be separated, for my heart rate to slow down, for me to realize - No passion.He danced like someone who had read the steps in a book, but never actually done the steps.It was too cold, too unnatural.As if he had been listening to my thoughts, (and maybe he had,) he dropped my hand.“This is a waste of my time,” he muttered, eyes on the ground.He stalked off, into the darkness. 

I stepped to the side of the cleared space, and folded my arms across my chest, biting my lip.He was so infuriating.Everything about him made me mad.I wanted to shout at him, sometimes, until his cold eyes hardened, and I thought the anger would consume me.And yet… There was that other Tobias- the one with the kitten.The him that silently absorbed every book he read with a sort of dogged determination.The way he sometimes stared off into the distance like a man with a thousand thoughts.He was a brooding, mad genius.I shook myself and moved to avoid being hit by a dancing couple.I was starting to become obsessed with him.I didn’t want that.What had I done to get myself so enraptured with a man?I started to walk away from the dancers and found myself grabbing a fencepost to steady myself.“Easy there, girl,” a voice said.An old woman was near me, and smiled at me.“Had a few too many, have we?”

 I nodded.“It’s a feast, after all.”

She leaned back, against the fencepost, half in shadow.“And yet, you’re unhappy.Why is that?”

I felt tears come to my eyes suddenly.“I - it’s a man.”

“Ah, I see.What’s the problem with this man?”

“Honestly? I don’t know what’s wrong with him.”I hugged myself tightly.“But sometimes I want to leave him behind, and other times I want to keep him by my side and never share him with anyone.”

“You’re in love, then.”The woman said sagely.“I’ve been there, long ago.”

“It’s a hopeless thing,” I whispered.

“Not so hopeless.”She held out a goblet.“Fine goblet, this.Is it yours?”

I gazed at it and laughed.“Oh, yes.I almost forgot it on the table.But how did you know- “

“You’re half elf, aren’t you? Ever been inside Faerie?”

“If I was, I don’t recall,” I said, bitterly.“I was a child when I was with my mother, and she preferred it here.Honestly, I think they never liked me back home.”I sipped at the goblet.It did not taste like mine, but it was good anyway.Mead was mead.“I would love to see it now.Travel between worlds as easily as stepping through a stage curtain.”I shook my head.“Sorry.I’m acting awfully strange tonight.”

The old woman snorted.“Please.You’re the most interesting person I’ve run into in this town, and that’s saying something.It takes a lot to amuse me.”She had her own goblet, and turned it in her hands.We watched the dancers for a time.“So, half elf.What is it you want most in your life?”

I sighed.“I don’t know.I am seeking my father, and I want to just find him.I don’t know if my mother is still alive, and I want to learn that information.But right now, _he’s_ distracting me.Every moment.Every breath.And I hate it! It’s like whenever he’s near my body just tenses and I can’t think straight.”Tears of frustration were in my eyes and I blinked them away and wiped them from my cheeks in a furious scrubbing motion of my sleeve. “It’s just - I wish… I wish that he could fall in love with me.I know it’s impossible. But if he could understand… then he could finally be _mine, a_ s much as I am his already.”

The woman traced my gaze across the courtyard, to where Tobias sat, sullenly watching the dancers.“Wait, him?” The woman looked at Tobias, as if she could see through him. She squinted.She tilted her head.She squinted again.“Oh my.He is… He’s…” She chuckled.“Well, each to their own I suppose.Do you know him, girlie? The _real_ him?”

I hugged my legs.“Sometimes I feel I’ve known him forever.Other times, he is a stranger.But he did save me.And I find myself in love with him, just the same.”

The woman raised a skeptical eyebrow.“As I said, each to their own.Young love does what it wants, however misguided. _If_ you’re sure it’s love. Have you ever loved another before?”

I shrugged.I spoke slower, lost in the memory.“Sort of.Not really.I was a slave, - a courtesan - not really in any position to make it known. That man told me he’d take me away… Save me.But he left.” 

“Lovers always make promises they can’t keep,” the woman said simply.“That’s why I’m hiding out here, tonight.As to yours now,” she nodded her head in Tobias’ direction.“ _He_ is a difficult puzzle to crack.And if he were anyone else, I would tell you he would be impossible to change.However, your man there is different.There is hope. He is not unreachable by your love…”She spoke distantly, as if she were not all there, but a million miles away, gazing down from a point high above the earth.“He has lived two lives, this man of yours.And he does not remember the first one.But he will.And there will be your chance, my sweet.To redeem him.Or to let him fall.”She brushed her hands off, shook her head as if casting off a great weight, and smiled at me.“I accept the challenge.The love story of the two of you will be one for the books.And frankly, it amuses me.I will grant you your wish.He _will_ fall in love with you.”

“My… What?” I felt as if I were slipping away somewhere, further and further into darkness, asleep.“What do you - who are you?”

“I regret to say the price will be a few years off of your life.Can’t keep this girlish figure up by magic alone, you know.”The woman chuckled.“Although someone of your lineage will barely miss a few years.What’s a few off a hundred something, eh?”

“I - don’t- “ My mouth and throat felt heavy, as though coated in honey.I stared at the goblet in my hand.“What did you give me to drink?”

“Laena, my dear, you must really stop drinking things strangers give you.”She shook an admonishing finger as she came closer, and I was struck, suddenly, by the face behind the grey hair.Why, she wasn’t old at all! The hair wasn’t grey, but a shimmering silver.She was young. _So_ young. And her eyes were full of mischief.“Your wish will come true.But none of this wham!instant! thing.Gradual is the only way to go.It will happen in its own time, and in its own way.And you might not like the results.It only affects him, and not you.And it will feel as natural as silk to him.Only _you_ will live with the knowledge you’ve bewitched him.”Her eyes looked like two green pinpoints in some distant dark tunnel, the last thing I saw before I succumbed to darkness. And the last thing I heard was a wry, amused whisper in my ear -

“Oh, and Laena?You _really_ have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.”

~*~

The absence of the red figure across the flames irked Tobias, and he stalked back over to see where Laena had gone.But she was asleep at the base of a fencepost, drooling like some dumb dog, chest rising and falling in sleep.Most likely a drunken sleep.“Honestly.”He muttered, and leaned down, shaking her awake.“Laena.Laena.”

She jerked awake, looking wildly around.“Who - what!”

“You’re making a damn fool of yourself.Get up. Now.” He yanked on her arm, and she stood up.Actually, no one had really noticed them, although he could sense that they were starting to, and it bothered him.She wiped the drool from her face, embarrassed, and her eyes still sought something - or someone- in the crowd.“Where’s the woman?”

“What woman?”

“The woman with the wishes - the woman - oh god, Tobias, I think she was Fae of some sort.”She twisted her hands anxiously together.“I’m not really sure what just happened…”

“What Faerie? What wishes?Woman! What are you babbling about?” He shook her arm and she pulled it away from him, her eyes clouded by anger, then. 

“Stop being so rough with me.I - I - “She rubbed her neck in a nervous gesture and bit her lip.“I don’t know.Maybe it was a dream.”

He tilted his head, staring at her, trying to make sense of her jumbled thoughts.But they _didn’t_ make sense, and he scoffed.“Well.A fine mess you’ve made of yourself.Come on, we’re going back.”

“Tobias.” Her eyes were wide, looking behind them.

“No, no excuses.We-“

“Tobias!” She grabbed his arm this time and whispered to him.“He’s here.”

Tobias slowly turned to look.The black hat and feather bobbed somewhere on the other side of the bonfire, and Tobias glared.“The thief.He won’t be getting away this time.Follow me.”

“What - how are we going to…”

“We’re going to follow him.”The black hat was weaving through the crowd, towards the woods, away from town, and Tobias followed.

~*~

The woods felt full of eyes. I shivered as we passed a close copse of trees, and almost ran right into Tobias’ back.He shushed me and waited until the man was out of earshot before he whispered, harshly, “I thought your kind could see in the dark.”

“I’m sorry!” I whispered back.“I didn’t mean to.”

“You drank too much. But I trust you’ll sober up as we continue.”It sounded more like a threat, than a hope. 

As we climbed higher, the temperature rose.We were headed into mountain territory.But there was something else ahead - lights.Music.Different from what we had been hearing in town - this sounded softer, like the kind of music traveling nomads played.Just viols, some horn of a kind, and some heavy shouting singing.Tobias waited on the edge of the woods, holding a hand for me to stop, and we watched the man enter a clearing lit by firelight.There was a group of people, about five men,around a fire. 

“Oi! Captain!” One of the men raised a beer bottle into the air, and a few others shouted happily as the plumed-hat man entered the fray. 

“Oi Oi!”

“Hello, friends,” he said, looking around with a smile.“What have we here today?”

“Just a shipment.Passing by town during the festival.Hoping to get some buyers.Fortune telling, the like.”The man winked.“The real fun starts when the women get drunk and wander away from their men.”I could feel Tobias’ eyes on the back of my head then, weighty, and I wanted to hit him.“What have you got for us?”

“I’ve got something very much worth looking at…” The man reached into a bag and pulled out two items that I could not see.But Tobias could, I suppose because of the difference in height and our places in the treeline, because I heard him gasp.“It’s something I’ve never seen, but I have heard… rumors… it might belong to some of our Underdark brethren.”

One of the men spat onto the ground. He had been sitting back a ways from the rest, in the dark, but he stood up and came into the firelight now.He had a long scar over one eye, sealing it forever closed.He stood a good 6 and a half feet tall, well dwarfing me.He walked up to the Captain then.“What makes you think we want trash from underground?”

“Just hear me out,” The Captain set the thing he was holding down now, and I could see it was a shiny piece of metal - intricate - unlike anything I’d seen before.It could fit into the palm of someone’s hand, but where he had placed it on a log, it was bright and shiny and beautiful.“I’ve heard tell it’s part of a larger treasure.Something so priceless you men would be eating off gold plates for the rest of your lives.” 

The men exchanged glances.“What sort of larger treasure? What do you mean?”

The Captain grinned.“It’s nothing more than the key to time itself, boys.”

Tobias growled next to me.I was sure they’d hear him.“That’s mine,” he muttered. 

I looked at him, angry, and looked as the men examined the piece of metal.I thought about it for only a second, because I really didn’t have any better ideas, drained the remainder of my goblet, and walked right out into the clearing. 

I could feel Tobias’ protests, rather than hear them, although there was the barest whispered, “Don’t!” as if he anticipated my next move.I stumbled forward, laughing to myself.The men were on guard, raising their weapons up, and when they saw me, they hesitated, confused.

“Hello, boys!” I said, and I eyed the scary scarred man.“You’re a big one, aren’t you.Are you big all over?” I giggled, a hand over my mouth.

“What - how did you get up here?” the big one said, clearly not sure whether to cut me through or shrink in embarrassment. 

I merely giggled again and pointed at the Captain.The men looked at him.“See, I spotted me a handsome man down in the clearing, and I followed him up here.”I pouted, pretending to look a little annoyed, and waltzed up to the captain, poking him in the chest.“You.You stole something of mine, you know.I needed that gold.Now I’m in a bad way and I don’t know what to do.”

“Captain, who is this?”One of the other men pointed at me.

The Captain looked sheepish, rubbing his neck.“Some lass I am afraid I treated badly.”He turned to me.“You know, you and I, we could have a little fun.There’s no need to be cross with me.”

“Well, I am cross.My friend and I are looking for our things you took.”The men looked wildly around at the mention of a friend, hands to their weapons, and I cursed inwardly.I recovered quickly.“Don’t worry, my friend is in bed with some country girl in town.It’s just me and you boys now.”

This seemed to hit a chord with them, because two of the men exchanged glances.“Huh.How about that.It is just you and us.” Their smiles were not so friendly anymore.I pretended not to notice, moving around the fire, finding an empty spot on a log.Behind me were at least three weapons.It was dark, so I couldn’t be sure, but I knew there was at least a sword and a javelin there.I went to drink from my goblet, peered into it, turned it upside down and sighed heavily, shaking it up and down.“I seem to be out of liquor,” I said, sadly.“Anyone got any more?”

Three flasks, a bottle of whiskey, and something that was probably rotgut in a glass were pushed in my direction.To be safe, I took the whiskey, and drank directly from the bottle.It wasn’t cheap stuff, but it still burned my throat, and I exaggerated coughing.The shoulder of my dress was starting to inch down my shoulder blade, and I could see the men’s eyes widening as my cleavage grew and grew in the firelight.“Oh my! Thank you.”

“So, lady, do you know what camp you just wandered into?” One of the men beside me said.He smelled like old unwashed socks.I moved away from him, raising an eyebrow.

“Do you know who I am? I’m a lady!” I said.“And I don’t care who you are.”I crossed my legs, and coincidentally the end of my dress rose up by a few inches, exposing some fair leg.“I don’t need to know who you are to have a good time, do I?”

Suddenly, the large, scarred man made a strange noise.The others turned, and a spectral blue-green hand closed around the man’s throat.A second later, he was on the ground, motionless.

The others suddenly stood up, weapons drawn, looking around.“It’s an ambush!” They said.

I tripped the man beside me when he tried to stand, and he fell, bringing down the pot of stew with him.He cried out in pain as it burned him, but I didn’t really care.These men were clearly thugs. I reached behind me and brandished the javelin.I cursed as I realized it was wrapped in some sort of fabric, and had to duck as another man near me swung with his rapier.It caught the edge of my flailing sleeve, and tore a long strip of fabric from it.“Ugh! That’s one of my best dresses!” I cried.But the green hand was back, taking something from the man beside me.He fell down a second later.The Captain was collecting his things, trying to run.The other men were running wildly away, shouting back and forth, gathering bags of goods, disappearing into the dark.I couldn’t pursue - I needed my weapon.I undid the knot, releasing the black fabric.It was an old javelin.But as my hand touched it, I felt the strangest tingling sensation.It went up and down my arm.And then, like the voice of an old friend, I suddenly knew what I had to say. 

“ _Charys_!” I shouted, and threw the javelin at the back of the retreating man.When it struck him, I knew he would go down.What I did not expect was the sudden arc of purple lightning between him and the other men present. 

The Captain turned just as the lightning arced towards him, and some - _thing_ \- on his neck created a big blue shield all around his body.The lightning bounced off, charring a nearby tree instead.He stood there and looked at me, wide eyed, then turned and vanished into the woods.

Tobias left the edge of the forest, and made as if to pursue Montaghue, then made small angry noises.“No…no the trail is already cold.What is he using to block me? Damn him!”He eyed the charred flesh of the three men that had not managed to escape.

I toed the foot of one.“They are… quite charred.That is some javelin.”I retrieved the javelin, and he moved past me.

He seemed frantic.“Is it here? Is it?” He ran up to the edge of the fire and frantically searched the logs, before a sigh of relief left him.“Oh, it’s here.It’s here.”He hugged the small piece of metal to his chest and began to look all around.“But where’s the rest? Where’s the bag?”

“I don’t know,” I said.I was out of breath, too. 

“You mean it’s gone?” He said, softer.He cursed under his breath, some language I didn’t quite recognize, and kicked at the dirt.“Damn, damn damn.”

“What is it?” I said.

“My journal.He took my damn journal.”He looked around a bit more, and threw bags of coins, clothing, and other things onto the ground.“Gone.It’s gone.”

“Your journal?” I repeated.“You write a journal?”

He rolled his eyes.“Not like that.It’s of my journey so far.You wouldn’t understand. Look - he took it, I don’t know what he’s doing with it, and it’s in code so he shouldn’t be able to read it, but - “ he ran a hand through his hair and it stuck up straight on his head.“I don’t know what he meant about this being the key to time.How could he have - “ he trailed, tucking the metal into his jacket pocket.“Damn it.I need to gain control of the situation again, no matter what.I’ve been careless.In the meantime, let’s gather up whatever gold we can get and leave.It’s useless trying to pursue that Captain tonight.Whatever he’s Captain _of_.”He looked at me.“As for you-”He narrowed his eyes.“We need to have a little chat.” 

~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOD! The key to time itself? What?? What does that even mean?  Why the hell wasn’t Montague affected by that weird javelin? So many questions!!!!!
> 
> Okay, a little fighting for those who were yearning for some kind of bloodshed.  But I don’t usually DO fights, I’m more an RP type so… ANYWAY.  Yeah.  So the next chapter is unabashedly a Lemon with a capital L.  I’m so excited.  I’ve been waiting forever for this scene.  It’s pretty much JUST the Lemon, and I cut to the chapter after, so if semi-kinky, non-tentacle sex isn’t your thing, go ahead and skip to the next chapter! If it is your thing, read on my friend.  Read on….


	14. At Last

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Delicious Lemons. A Simple Punishment or Something More? What Does This Mean For Them?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, there is definitely music for this LEMONY LEMON LEMON chapter. Did I warn you enough?
> 
> I highly recommend listening to “Stop A Bullet” by Black Light Burns for this. It’s deliciously angry. As the scene - ahem - “progresses”, I REALLY recommend “Secret Scream” by The Black Queen. Probably anything by IAMX would do, too - “After Every Party I Die” comes appropriately to mind, or, even better, “Tear Garden.” Maybe some NIN - like Closer. These songs/artists are hot as fuck if you’re in the scene yourself, and I highly recommend them for playtime. Yes, folks, it’s a BDSM playlist right here on Archive of Our Own. Enjoy. But not too much, you perverts. ;) 
> 
> Oh, and the part after the break could be: “The Horror of Our Love” - Ludo or, better, “Simple Math” - Manchester Orchestra.

Chapter 14: AT LAST

He was silent for most of the trip back, except for the occasional directional nod, or mutter, or curse to himself. My cheeks were hot, with the adrenaline, with the heat of anticipation for whatever he had to say… And he was mad. I suspected it was not at me. He kept touching his jacket pocket, as if to make sure the metal was still there. I wanted to ask what it was, but I also did not want to get my head ripped off. We walked past the festivities, past the bonfire, and back towards the inn. The patrons were not there - even the barkeeper, it seemed, had left to join the fun. The inn was mostly empty. I hesitated at the foot of the second floor landing, because it was his floor, but he merely turned to me with a slightly raised eyebrow.

“Why did you stop?” he said.

“Well, we can just talk here, can’t we?” I trailed. _Why am I so shy, all of the sudden? I_ t was in the way his hands were shaking with anger. In the way the heat in his eyes almost seemed to penetrate through my skull. I was frightened of him, for the first time since we had met.

“No. Your rooms are preferable. My walls are thin. You are further from your neighbors. Come.” He beckoned me up, towards my own room. And I was struck by the audacity of the thing.

“No!” I said, just outside my own door.

His hand already on the door handle, he froze. His shoulders were taut, back hunched as he turned ever so slowly to look at me. His voice was cold as the air outside. “Get inside. Now.”

“No!” I repeated.

“Do you want to make a scene?” He gestured down the hallway. There was a light burning under the door of the farthest room at the end. I saw it and pursed my lips. I opened the door myself and brushed past him, flopping down on the armchair. He slammed the door behind him and folded his arms over his chest, silent for a moment, staring at me.

“Well, what’s wrong?” I said. “I _helped_ you tonight.”

His voice was deadly calm, in contrast to his shaking figure. “Oh, is _that_ what you thought you were doing?” Tobias stalked forward, his long fingers trailing beside him, brushing over the tops of the furniture as he passed, moving as silently as a cat. “You rushed headlong into something without thinking. You could have gotten hurt, or killed. What’s more, because of _you_ , something very dear to me got away tonight.”

“You don’t know that. My plan might have been what got you that piece back.”

“And _you_ don’t know that my plan wouldn’t have worked either,” he snapped back. He was so close to me. He seemed so much taller in the dark, in this light, as he towered above me. “You would do well to remember who it was that saved you. Who it was that’s guided you thus far. You are not capable of making your own decisions. You act rashly, dumbly, and it gets us both into trouble. And I’ve had it. You need to learn your place.”

“What? Why are you this way?!" I threw my hands in the air. "I don't understand why you're so arrogant!"

"You're just difficult," he retorted. "If you'd just listened to me, none of this would have happened."

"Argh!" With a strangled cry, I stood, and stomped from one end of the room to the door. "Get out!" I gestured to the door.

"No one talks to me that way! Get back here and sit down.” He gestured at the chair.

"Make me!" I said.

_Gods, why did he seem so tall tonight?_

” _Very_ mature.” His voice was bitterly sarcastic, like salt in a wound. “You need a good whipping."

“I’d- I’d like to see you try," I sputtered, my cheeks even hotter, my chest burning with a deep flush at his words.

Something in him broke. He roared and grabbed me, and I cried out. With surprising strength for his build, he threw me over the end of the sleigh bed, my rear higher than my front, sprawled on the bedspread. "What are you doing?" I cried out. "Unhand me-" The hem of my dress yanked up to my waist, I gasped at the cold air hit my exposed skin. _Smack._ My mouth open, I turned to goggle at him, but he pushed me down hard into the sheets.

"Don't turn around," he growled.

His slap made contact with the place where the curve of my buttocks touched my thigh and I flinched at the sting.  I squirmed, shrieking in protest. "Don't!"

Three sharp smacks in a row. My eyes filled with tears, and I had to bite my lip. _Oh gods... He doesn’t know._ He had no idea what his admonitions were doing to my body.

"Please," I begged.  I meant to ask him to stop, but was only able to whisper again, " _please._.." He hit me for what felt like an endless time. The tears streamed down my cheeks, as his breath grew ragged behind me.

My face sideways on the bed, I tried to get a look at him, but again his low voice hissed, "down," and pushed my head to the sheets. I could feel, slowly slipping down my thighs, a certain slick wetness. I bit my lip again as he suddenly stopped.  His hand went right for the trail, tracing it with a finger. I turned to stop him, and just saw him lift his hand in the air. He rubbed his fingers together, eyes lifting slowly to look at me. I whipped my head back around to stare at the headboard, humiliation sending shivers through my whole form. I closed my eyes. There was a rustle of fabric - surely, he would let my skirt fall now, disgusted that that had been my reaction to his discipline.

Except...that was not what happened. I felt a certain warm hardness at my entrance, then, so familiar and yet not felt for so long, I gasped.  I started to scramble up, but both of his hands grabbed my wrists and forced them onto the coverlet again. His voice came out dark, like a growl. “For the last time. I told you to stay down." He adjusted something and I heard the clink of a belt as it fell to the floor.

"Up on your tip toes," he ordered, and I obeyed without question. He penetrated me, and I cried out with something between longing and pain as my walls stretched to accommodate him. He was large. Much larger than I anticipated for his height and weight. His length slid in and reached my limit without being completely inside. His grip slackened as he made it all the way in, and I took the chance to pull my right hand up to my mouth.  I kept my fingers between my lips in embarrassment and pleasure as I tried to hold back a low moan. He gave a long, shallow exhale, and withdrew, before he slammed fully into me again. I cried out, winced at the pain, and gripped the sheets in my free hand.

His other hand seized my left wrist, so tightly I feared he might break it, and even as I thought it, he seemed to release it a little.  He still kept it captive, but not quite so strongly as before. He repeated the thrusting motion again, and again, and every push pressed my entire body against the edge of the footboard.  Tears streamed down my face. I was thankful for it though, so thankful, even with the pain.

_Gods, I wanted this. Wanted him.  Wanted him to violate me in every way for so long..._

...he quickened, and he released my wrist in order to grab my hips, forcing my pace faster. I struggled to stay on my toes and accept his speed, and he groaned in frustration when I kept slipping downward, throwing off his rhythm. He hauled me upward, off the bed, and dragged me around the side. He pushed me down onto the sheets.

I wanted to take in his naked form, his clothes having been shed to the floor, his heaving bare chest and his hair messy, but my vision kept getting fuzzy, as though dust were in my eyes.  His eyes flashed with something akin to anger as I tilted my head to try again and rubbed one eye with my hand. "Close your eyes and take off that dress. You won't be needing it." I wondered what he was afraid I might see, if I stared too long, but I again obeyed without question.  I tore the dress off over my head with barely a thought, and threw it on the ground. He was on top of me before I could readjust.  His cock slid into me again, and found its quickened pace once more. I wanted to open my eyes.  I wanted to see what it looked like for him to take me so violently.

_Is he angry? Is this the passion he was missing when we danced? What is it?_

He seemed so frustrated with every thrust, every exasperated sigh that tore from his lips when I wasn't in the right position and he had to move me on the bed to match his desires. He did not touch my breasts, so much as grabbed them hard - to hurt them, rather than to feel their form.  My knees were pressed to my chest, my arms above her head, then I was sideways and my` upper leg held up by his hand.

In the end, I was face down on the sheets, flat to the bed.  He pumped in and out between my slick thighs, and then there was the telltale stiffening- the hard grip of his hands on my arms - the sharp hiss of his breath - The primal cry that he gave as he came made me - briefly - open my eyes to stare at the headboard in wonder for what had just occurred. When he slid out, I could feel his own wetness sliding down my thighs to the sheets. So much... And it felt so strange... But I couldn't look, because again he barked at me, "Close your eyes. You're _terribly_ disobedient." He moved away.

I wanted to disagree, and thought how obedient I had been thus far, but only managed to giggle, my hand back to my lips as I laughed into my fingertips. "Oh gods," I whispered. "That was-"

"Don't speak," he whispered. He pressed something dry and rough against my backside - a towel. "Spread your legs," he commanded, and I did. He wiped me down and cleaned himself off of me, and I smiled at the headboard, eyes still glued shut.

"You will speak of this to _no one_ ," he hissed, his voice angry and low.  "As far as I am concerned, this never happened.  And I will suggest you are crazy if you do tell a soul.  And everyone will believe me.  I'll make sure of it. You would do well to keep your silence, if you value your precious hide."

I stopped laughing. “I- I mean, all right, I won't tell anyone, but don't you think you're overreacting? I mean, wasn't it fun for-"

"It was a mistake," he said, his voice taking on a strangely strangled tone unlike his usual deadly calm. "I assure you it will not happen again." The rustle of clothing and his belt... I made to move. "No. Stay down until I am gone." When I heard the door latch closed, I turned and sat up, looking around. Aside from the rustled sheets and the wet stain beneath me, there was no trace anything had even happened. He'd even taken the towel.

It will not happen again.

If that were true, then why did he sound so anxious about it?

~*~

The door slammed between the rooms. He leaned against the wood, breathing heavily. _Why? Why?_ He paced across the floor, tapping his hand anxiously against his thigh until he realized what he was doing and cursed. _Damn it all, T’qou, what are you doing to yourself?_ It was not supposed to happen like that. It had started so innocently, just a master punishing his thrall… How had it grown so out of control as to lead to that atrocity? Furthermore, he wasn’t even sure how he had physically managed it.

 _Simple,_ his mind told him as he delved through the archives of scientific information. _The genitalia was already present, leftover from ceremorphosis, as is not totally uncommon. Albeit nonfunctional. It was simple to simply divert the blood flow to a new place, and the secretions that protect my skin from drying out. It was just a new way of releasing it - a lot of it - at once. Proof of an Illithid’s amazing mind-body control._

He folded his arms before his chest, staring at the door, worried others were somehow watching him through the solid wood. It was so _wrong._ It was not the way of the Mindflayers. They did not have intercourse. It was a highly selective process in choosing a proper host. Breeding did not involve such animalistic passions. It was unnecessary. It was vulgar.

 _Then why,_ asked the small voice in the back of his mind, _did you enjoy it so much? You felt it - her intense pleasure and arousal carried over to you. You didn’t just feel it, in fact, you remembered it._ Another time, another lifetime - not his own. That of his host. The feel of a woman’s skin beneath his hands, the sultry look from under her eyelids… The memory of her face, even her body, was hazy. But the lust was real. And that was what had happened in the other room. Somehow, he had tapped into this primal, human emotion, and had been able to force his body to act like a human’s. He let out a cry of rage and slammed a fist against the wall before he recoiled with the pain. This could never happen again. It was a failing - he was damaged. He had been put together totally incorrectly.

He would need to find a way to cope with it. Forget it had ever happened.

When he passed her the next day in the hallway, he was overwhelmed by her thoughts: so warm, so sickening. _She was happy with the bruises? She found it reminded her of him? Well, he would remove them._ He would leave no trace -no trace of his failing, or of his weakness. He grabbed her arm and healed her, and she was left confused in the hallway as he scurried the other way. She would not be allowed to remember it. A thrall, allowed to experience pleasure with her master? Unheard of! Not allowed. So she was untouched by him once more in the erasure of the marks upon her skin, and he could pretend it never happened.

Except he couldn’t. The dreams worsened. Now, the sea was interspersed with strange memories of a house somewhere he did not recall. The woman was there, still, the woman he did not know. And sometimes he awoke and found his body starting to respond to the memories in a way most definitely non-Illithid. He even toyed with the idea of removing the offending parts, to make himself above such things, except… Except…

Something miraculous happened. All of Laena’s disobediences vanished. She stopped arguing with him. She grew meeker, softer. She did not attempt to stop him anymore. Like a good thrall would. Was this a new discovery? A new way for an Illithid to force a thrall to become a willing servant, without resorting to mind control? He hated to admit it, but until he could actually force the girl to bend to his will with the power of his mind, it seemed he had found a way to make her docile.

Once the seed of that idea had been planting, more heretical ideas came to him. Slowly at first, growing by the day. Why shouldn’t he experience pleasure? Why shouldn’t he enjoy all the fruits his thrall had to offer him? The release he had felt had been something incredibly fulfilling, after all. Somehow. The speed in which his hearts had to keep up with the physical exertion, the images from her mind which he had fed off of, the positions he forced her body to imitate. The tightness of her cunt and the friction against his skin. He wanted it again. He wanted _more._

Some Illithids did crave physical closeness as a way to bond. It was never encouraged, or talked about, or noticed. It was never a sexual act. But. What better way to dominate a thrall than to own them completely? After all, didn’t some Illithid watch when their thralls bred with each other? It was likely to make sure they didn’t come to any harm, especially when breeding cross-races, but… Maybe their voyeurism hadn’t been as innocent as he had thought. Was it possible he, T’qou, could actually obtain satisfaction from such an act? Not just once, but multiple times?

He started imagining the act of sexual interaction as a way to subjugate Laena. To punish her. To control her.  
And suddenly, the mistakes he had made up until then seemed much less grievous than he had previously assumed. They seemed manageable. Possible. A mistake he wanted to make again. But the next time, it would be on his terms. And damned if he would be caught by surprise again. He would not be outdone by the courtesan. He would be entirely in control of the situation.

~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTES: Ohhhhh it seems like a dream come true for Laena. But she still doesn’t know who her friend is. And what happens when she finally learns?…. Bwahahahaha. Coming up next time - FRIENDS?


	15. Friends?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after becomes the week after. Two can play this game. A new ability for Laena. New friends. A shocking discovery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MUSIC: The Garden - Mirah.  
> 
> NANOWRIMO, everyone.  I’m averaging about 3,000 words a day between all my works.  Wish me luck.

 

CHAPTER 15: FRIENDS?

The fork turned around and around under my fingers. I had hoped, perhaps foolishly, that things would be different.After all,  _I_ could not forget what had happened.Every time I closed myeyes, my brain wanted to repeat the memory of how it felt for his girth to take me, for his hands to bruise - because they _had_ left bruises on my skin the next day.And I was glad, or else I might have believed it was merely a dream.  Then, he had suddenly approached me that morning and healed my wounds without asking- as though he had known about the bruises, or the sore feeling inside.  All my pains melted away, and then he walked away without so much as a word.

We spent days asking for information, searching.Greg was dead - how, no one seemed to know.Jennifer was distraught and no help to anyone.Our innkeeper didn’t know much, although he did imply that with the coming winter we might not see any thieves here for a while.“They head into bigger towns, where it’s warmer. They don’t come here, much.”Tobias was reticent as ever, and wouldn’t talk to me after these wanderings.I followed after him, quiet, a ghost, trying to fathom why this hadn’t affected him in the slightest.He merely checked the maps and implied we should leave town soon, perhaps, just a few more days… Just a little more gold.Even though we had gotten more than enough from the wagons of the thieves.I couldn’t help but feel like he was preparing for something - some journey or goal that I did not know - that he would never tell me.

And I, alone, was tortured by the memory of us. _H_ e sat quietly at the table as he ate breakfast, as if nothing had happened, and calmly read the book he held in the air between us.I frowned, and leaned more and more across the table, until the pressure began leave the markings of the woodgrain on my forearms.Without making eye contact, he licked a finger, and turned a page.He was silent for a moment as his eyes scanned the lines of the page.If glares could burrow into flesh, mine would be somewhere in the middle of his head.He sighed, short and discontent.“That look is not becoming of a lady who claims to be nobility.”

 _Oh._ He _had_ noticed. “Are we ever going to talk about _it_?”

Lick. Turn. Scan.“No.”

I twisted the fork a little too hard, and it fell upon the floor with a clatter that set my teeth on edge.“Why not?”

Turn. Scan.“I told you.It was a mistake.Nothing more.Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”The tone of his words scathed. I swore the edges of his lips tugged upward.

“You don’t need to be condescending,” I whispered.“I am actually a full grown woman.If it was just a one time event, I can handle it.But I’d like you to confirm that.And you didn’t look like you wanted it to be a “once” sort of a lay.”

His finger paused on the corner of the page, and he hesitated for a moment.Then, he closed the book with a snap that made me jump, set the tome down, and folded his hands neatly on its red cover. His smile was sharp as he leaned across to me, and mynose filled with the scent of vanilla.“And pray tell, what is it about you that’s so grown up, pet?”He ticked off points on his hand.“ _I’ve_ got your money, you have nowhere to call home, you have a hundred issues about your father that I won’t even _begin_ to get started on…”

“First off, I am not so dependent.I make my own money as a bard.”I folded my arms before my chest. “And none of those have anything to do with base maturity.”

“Really?If you’re such an adult, why do you feel the need to hammer home an issue that’s already closed?It was a mistake.Nothing more.And you’re getting angry about it, too, I can tell.Not really the behavior of a woman.Much more like that of a spoiled little girl.”

“I am not-“ A nearby serving girl stared, and I lowered my voice,“—Am not a child,” I finished.“And addressing issues is not being a child.It’s only healthy.”

“For a relationship.”He nodded sagely as he picked back up the book and opened the book to the page where he left off.Lick, turn, scan.“Which would imply we had one.”

“Well-“

“—We don’t.”He leaned his chin on his hand as he settled in to read.It was a handsome gesture, and I hated myself for admiring him. I balled my fists in my lap.I would not cry.I would not yell.I would not give him the satisfaction.I bit my tongue accidentally and turned my head to hide my reaction to the pain. 

 

~*~

She did not see his eyes flicker up to look at her from beneath his eyelids. She did not see the slow smile that spread across his lips just behind the book, the slightly feral way he bared his teeth in delight at her discomfort.By the time she turned back to see him, his expression was neutral.Fully engrossed in the book, he ignored her. 

~*~

 

So I decided to ignore him.Two could play this game.I had a show that night and wanted to practice something from the Shadow Dancer repertoire.It was impressive, and made me seem exotic -two things that were great business for a half elf bard.And there were a lot of half elf bards in the world.I tuned up the harp and began to practice.There was a piece entitled: “Secrets”, and I thought, _Sure, I have more than a few of those._ Tobias was probably off playing with the kitten - whom he had named Patches - and would therefore be distracted for a few hours. _Honestly._

It was during my third reread of the passage that something in the music clicked.I had been nearest to the wall adjoining another room, and as the music swelled and grew louder, I heard the man in the next apartment talking.It was so strange, though.He wasn’t talking here, he was almost… Inside my head. I shivered and stopped playing.The sound faded, and died.I tried it again.Again, the man swelled into my head. _Rotten taxes always taking and taking and-_

I scooted back on my chair, a hand over my mouth. _I’m hearing his thoughts!_ I giggled and did it again and again, and then experimented.If I merely thought the tune, it worked just the same.It didn’t last long, and somehow I knew, intrinsically, if I pushed on the other person too much, they would sense my presence.But it was enough to read what was on the surface.

Oh, what a handy, handy book!

Delighted, I spent the remainder of the afternoon downstairs, wandering amongst the patrons, listening in on them.I found after about three or four I could not do it again for a long span.It seemed my magic was not infinite, after all.I got ready for the show, and played.It became a wonderful way to know what the audience wanted - and sadly, which audience members wanted me in their bedroom.I didn’t mind.I enjoyed it.

I made friends that night.Some other travelers - a Kenku, just passing through, and his friend, a female half-orc who I suspected to be a thief or assassin of some sort.Both kept to themselves, didn’t speak much, although I thought the Kenku was rather friendly.They had just come into town.There was another, whom they had already met earlier - a quiet woman with dark skin, hiding in the corner, wrapped all in black.I don’t know why, but I wanted to strike up a conversation with her.I got my drink and went over.“Hello!” I said.“My name is Laena.Is anyone sitting with you?”

She seemed taken aback I was talking to her.“No, no one.Feel free to sit down.”

I did.“What brings you into town?”

She shrugged.“Many things.”

I stared at her, sipping at my mug.“Many things, huh.Me too.I’m seeking my father.He disappeared with my mother, and I don’t even know if she’s alive.”I sipped again, and the woman seemed startled as she looked at me.“You have a tragic air about you.I can sense it from a mile away.So what’s your story?”

“You’re very forward for a stranger.”

“Then think of me as a friend,” Laena said, leaning on her palm.“I have been staying here for a little while now, and I’m easily bored.You interest me.”I heard the echo of the woman from the other night and shook my head a little.“Whatever it is, I can help you.”

She hesitated, and came a little more out of the hood.She had shaved off all her hair, and her face looked haggard, but she was young, and there was an exotic beauty to her.“My name is Kol.”

“Kol?” I was struck by the similarity.“That’s my father’s name.Of course there’s probably no relation.He was a cruel man. A rich, powerful nobleman.From Winborne originally.”

Kol’s brow furrowed.“What did he look like?” Her voice was fast, low.

I tried to remember.“He would probably have salt-and-pepper hair, now.Back then, he was almost all black-haired, with just a little grey.Handsome, but harsh.”

Kol seemed disappointed.“No.No, that’s not him.”

“Who are _you_ seeking?” I said.

“A politician - a young man that… There was a woman I loved.She was falsely accused and he… He…”She trailed off.But I had been listening in on more than her words.The stark image of a beautiful, redheaded woman being beheaded in a town square made me recoil.I drank a godly sip of mead and coughed. 

“I’m sorry,” I said. 

“It’s an injustice that must be dealt with,” Kol replied.“And there is someone here who might have information for me.Until then, I wait.”I nodded.She looked at me out of the corner of her eye.“Pardon me for being forward, but - are you traveling by yourself?”

“No, I have a companion,” I replied.“He’s… Somewhere.Oh. There.”I waved vaguely in Tobias’ general direction.When she looked to him, he turned his head, eyed us both, nodded once and faced the wall.He was not in a social mood. 

“A formidable friend,” she said.“But, I wager, not as friendly as you.” 

I laughed.“Well.You have a friend in me, at least.And should you ever need help, come find me.Right now I’m on the top floor.First door, end of the hall.”I stood up, held out my hand.She clearly had not held or touched anyone in a while.Her calloused fingers touched mine, and she smiled. 

“Thank you, Laena.I may just call on you.” 

I had used more than a little charm. I could see her broad axe behind her, and the full metal plate beneath her hood.In truth, I was thinking she might be useful to us.It almost hurt that she would have seen just a bard, and yet was still willing to accept help from me.I looked utterly useless.Years as a courtesan do that to a person.But she had wanted my help, just the same.It was sweet, really.

I stayed up, playing cards with other patrons until late.I saw Tobias sneak off, having been hidden in the back of the room, and disappear back up the stairs without a word to any of us.I sniffed and bought shots for the table.By the time I stumbled upstairs, I already knew who I wanted to listen in on the next day.And wouldn’t that be a fun surprise? I slept fitfully, too excited for the morning.

When I saw Tobias in the hallway, about mid afternoon, he tried not to look at me, but I spoke first.“Um, look. Want tea?” I asked.I thought about how nice it would be to have tea.How much I wanted to just be able to talk to him again. 

He sighed.“I suppose?”

I clapped my hands together, focusing on my excitement.“Good!Bring Patches.Meet me upstairs.It will be fun!”I hurried off, before he could get suspicious.I didn’t know what thoughts he could and couldn’t hear, but he didn’t seem to suspect I was up to anything.I would have to do it quickly, though, activate it as soon as I was in the room.If I didn’t, he would probably notice something was amiss.

 _But wouldn’t it be nice, to share the ability to read thoughts with one another! I’ll just surprise him.Let him know I know.I’ll listen in to a sentence and then respond or repeat it back.What’s the worst that could happen?He’ll yell at me for reading his mind._ I carried the tea tray delicately into the bedroom, swung the door closed with my elbow and sashayed perfectly.I never once tripped on the train of my long robe.“The innkeeper gave us extra biscuits.” Tobias was silent, staring at the wall.Patches played off in the corner, batting around a fallen flower petal from the bouquet ever present on my bureau.What had Tobias’ attention? I set the tea down onto the small table and pulled up a footstool to settle down beside him with my own mug. 

“Are you listening in to other people’s thoughts, too?” I asked.

He barely glanced at me.“Yes.Yes, I am.”As I sipped at the steaming liquid, I eyed him carefully, and began to hum the tune to myself…

It was like opening a floodgate.I had known he was intelligent, but the rate and volume of the thoughts overwhelmed me. _-pursue that line of thinking at some point in the near future.It would be most useful to me in the long run.What’s this? Oh, Talulla’s room- Hmm, yes, interesting.Interesting.Hmm, really? I can use that.There? Ah, the innkeeper’s room, yes._

“It’s nice to know you think of me as a friend, that you can tell me that,” I said, and my heart was beating faster in excitement. 

Tobias reached for the tea and took it in hand, “Yes… _Friends_.”I smiled a little, full of warm feelings at the sentiment.Yet in _his_ mind… _Smile at her.Try to smile.Smile - ah well.No need to try too hard to make her feel content with me.I know I am HER friend.At least, she certainly sees me that way.She is obedient, subservient, and seeks authority figures when she feels lost.She is the perfect candidate for thrall material.Oh, there’s David’s room.Yes?Yes…This is very useful information._

 _Thrall?Where have I heard that term before?_ In my mind, patterns connected across time and space until I recalled, dimly, Laqualyn warning me very sternly to never get near some _thing_ … To go near it meant certain death.Creatures that had slaves - countless slaves.Thralls. 

Just then, Tobias’ thoughts turned.It was like an intake of breath, inside his head, as though something had caught his attention, at the same time as the name of the creature Laqualyn had warned me about came to the front of my mind.

_Who is that inside my head?…Laena?…_

_Mindflayer!_


	16. Mindflayer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secrets revealed. Purposes explained. Roles explored. Laena learns the truth about Tobias.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MUSIC: “Snow White Queen” - Evanescence. When the conversation turns, later, I hear “Limelight” by The Adventures Of…. Or, “Strange and Beautiful” by Aqualung.
> 
> I'm laughing like a weirdo at my lunch break while posting this chapter and people are staring at me.
> 
> I absolutely loved writing this chapter. It's also much more polished, because it's an older chapter, and I've had time to actually edit and make it beautiful. Enjoy!

CHAPTER 16:MINDFLAYER

 

Silence.The shutters closed on my ability to read his mind - too soon - long before it would have ended for others. I sought for his thoughts, like scrabbling for purchase on a stone wall within Tobias’ head.I listened, but there was nothing.No thoughts at all, just a kind of deafening silence.An impossibility.His head slowly turned to look at me, eyes dark with rage.Nimbly, he set his tea down, and stood at a creaking pace.He towered high above, a dark presence in a room with walls that seemed to loom ever closer. I jumped up, and felt the faintest brush of magic somewhere past my ear, as though it had just missed. 

The fear and adrenaline pumping through me involuntarily forced a scream from between my lips, and I moved back - but some- _thing_ grabbed me. 

Long, purple tentacles wrapped around my hands, my neck; gagged me mid-scream.They had come from Tobias, and yet if I looked right at his face, there was nothing amiss.But I was certain – the tentacles around me had come from him.My own brain became a torrent of thoughts, quick and panicked: _I’m going to die!Never let a Mindflayer grapple you.Charming them won’t work.Their powers include detecting thoughts, levitating at will… They can control your mind.Though getting out of the grapple is most important.If I don’t, he’ll eat my brain!_

“Don’t move and you’ll be perfectly safe,” Tobias growled.Instinct won out over his order.I struggled, managed to loosen his grip, and stumbled backwards, screaming once again in the effort to free myself. _How was this possible?How was he a Mindflayer?_ Tobias – human Tobias, without a trace of tentacles – put his head in his hand with an exasperated sigh. “I have no desire to hurt you,” he said, his tone terse and short.

I hugged myself.This was a dream.This was not real. “Is it true?Are you... Are you a Mindflayer?"He was silent for a moment as he studied me.

"Close your mouth.Put both hands over it."He looked to the side, contemplating."Well... first, promise me you won't scream.Again.”

"I'm not going to scream, unless you give me reason t-."

“Is the door locked?” He drowned out my voice by raising his.

“I don't know.” I honestly could not recall more than a few minutes before.My heart and head raced.

He grimaced.“Lock it.”I hesitated.His eyes narrowed.He was still angry. “I said - _lock the door.”_ He hadn’t hurt me yet. _Isn’t that true? If he had wanted to, he would have before now._ But I hadn’t been so close, so very - _very_ close to his true nature, to this horrible secret.I tried to remember the friend, the companion over the last few months.“Just hear me out,” he said, still exasperated, but more pleading - softer. When I did not move, he rolled his eyes.“ _Please,”_ he added, as if it pained him, in a vitriolic whisper.

“I know I’ll regret this,” I said with a frustrated sigh of my own, and turned for the door.Just as I reached for the handle, there was a sharp rap on the wood. 

A voice called through the door.“Laena?Laena, are you all right?”

“Oh, Kol,” I said, and the absurdity of it all struck me so fast I actually laughed.  Oh, she was coming to see me.  Nothing to see here, Kol, just a creature of nightmare and the woman who foolishly fell in love with him.

There was the sound of rustling fabric behind me, and I turned to Tobias leaping into the bed.“Open the door.” He pulled the covers up to his waist.

I opened the door, and took in the sight of Kol, fully armored.She carried her long axe.“Is everything all right?”The woman’s brow was furrowed. Kol peered in the open space behind me.I turned my head and noted that in the span of the seconds it had taken for all of this to occur, Tobias had somehow mussed his hair and pulled his collar slightly askew.He looked irked at having been interrupted in the midst of… Something.I felt my face go hot in a flush.Any other time, I would have welcomed such a sight, but now… “Are you in need of assistance?” Kol asked.

I shook my head.”No, I'm-"

“I would say so, but not the kind _you_ can provide,” Tobias snapped.At his words, the flush spread across my skin.I looked down, and realized that in our struggle, my robe had come slightly open, exposing a fair amount of cleavage.I clutched the opening closed with a gasp, bit my lip and refused to look my new friend in the eye.“Everything is fine,” I said, in an unnaturally high pitched voice. 

Kol hesitated.“I respect individual's preferences." 

"Thank you!" I said, and thought the problem solved. But she did not leave.The dark figure stood unmovable in the doorway.She stared daggers at Tobias. 

I opened the passageway between myself and her mind, briefly tuning into her thoughts - _This is not a fair match up.I don’t believe it.Laena is clearly afraid of him right now._ I lost the thread and could no longer follow, my own thoughts a raging mess. 

More afraid of the person behind me than the one ahead, I took a deep breath.“It's fine.Thank you for being concerned,.”The lie came all too easily for me.Wishful thinking, on my part.Kol stood calmly in the doorway.She was not leaving.

Tobias threw off the covers and stood.My mouth dropped open. _Did he… Did he undo his belt in that short span of time? When?_

He retied it around his waist with a harsh, angry flourish. “Very well!Laena, would you like me to _leave_?”

I hesitated too long, because inside my head, I heard a soft voice say, _I_ ** _can_** _read your thoughts, you know._ It was him - his voice, except, not one I had ever heard before. 

“Perhaps,” I squeaked at Kol, “perhaps you can come back later?” My eyes fought tears as I turned to the - _it? - the man?_ \- the thing I had called a friend for months.The being I had- _Oh gods, I actually fucked him!_

 _Concentrate._ The voice ordered. His eyebrows lowered in a deeper frown.

I panicked. _If you don’t want me to send you out, just tell me and I won’t.I'll do anything, just don't kill me.Please._

_What will you tell this woman?_

_I'll…_ I considered my options. _I’ll tell her that we had a lover's spat.I don't know!I'll make something up, I can handle that much._

 _I’ll be watching you._ It occurred to me that we had not spoken aloud in a bit.We stood face to face, staring each other down.Kol had her axe in the doorway.She still watched Tobias.Tobias sighed and went to the door."I have no wish to cause any trouble."He reached out with a hand and moved the axe out of the way with a hand before he passed through.“Later.”Kol stepped to the side, and let him go, surprisingly docile at the rough handling of her axe.Tobias made a sweeping gesture to invite her the room.Kol looked at me, and I shrugged.At this point, it didn’t matter what Kol did.Kol stepped in.

“Really, thank you, but it’s just a lover’s spat, nothing more.”I’d spent all my energy trying to read Tobias’ and Kol’s thoughts already.I hoped that Kol believed me.I yawned widely and feigned exhaustion.“I am tired, now, and I need to go to bed.”

Kol nodded, and took a step back, into the hallway.“Laena,” she said in the doorway.

“Yes?”

“If you’re ever in need of any assistance, I am available to you.I can hear a shout from my room.”

I blushed.“Clearly.Good to know.Goodnight!”I closed the door and sat down.Looking across the room, I caught sight of movement, and almost screamed again.But it was only the mirror, and the white-faced spectre within was me.

~*~

When Kol reached the top of the stairs, Tobias waited in front of her bedroom door.“I simply wanted to assure you, I had no untoward sexual motives.”

Kol stammered, “Well-“

“You seemed concerned.”

Kol leaned on her axe.“I merely heard sounds of distress and cannot let such things pass without investigation.But Laena seemed all right.I hold no grudge towards you, if what she says is true.”

Tobias grinned.“I appreciate that.And…” he leaned closer, “between the two of us, Laena does prefer some of theum,” he cleared his throat, “rougher things?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Kol said, nonplussed. 

Tobias shrugged.“I appreciate your c _oncern_.”

Kol’s forehead wrinkled.“Do these rougher things entail injury?Is this a training regimen for that girl?She is not very skilled in battle, I understand.”

Tobias’ voice was strangled as he hid a laugh.“One might call it that.You should perhaps speak to Laena about this directly.It is not my story to tell.” 

“That is fair.I always approve of further training for those who regularly put themselves in danger.” 

Tobias nodded.  “Yes.  _Training_.”  He bowed, and left.

~*~

It was nightfall.I had been waiting for the knock on the door.Dreading it, in fact. _Open the door._ The voice in my head was similar to Tobias’ speech but… Higher.Breathier.Less human. I answered the door with the duvet pulled over my head, wrapped in them like some sort of swaddling blanket.He rushed in, and locked the door behind him.I shuffled back to the big armchair and sat in it, staring at him.He stared back.“Is the blanket going to protect you?” he drawled, indicating it.

“No.But it makes me feel better.”I let it come down off my head, but still held it tight around my shoulders. 

He dragged the footstool across from me, and sat down, facing me. _How have I never noticed his height?_ He used to be about 6 heads high by my best estimate, but for some reason, ever since discovering his true identity, he seemed closer to 7. Did he hunch, normally?He was easily at head height with me, now, even though he was sitting below me.He raised an eyebrow. _How, when he doesn’t even have eyebrows? Why does he look human?_ He said, “what are you afraid of?”

“That you’re going to kill me.”

He sighed.  “If I were going to kill you, I would have done so over the past few months.  When the two of us were alone and camping together, I could have slit your throat in the night and consumed your brain.  Which is what you’re worried about, since that’s what you’re _thinking_.”

My shoulders rose around my ears, and I pointedly avoided looking at him. _Why are we even talking if you don’t need to talk?_

“Because you are more comfortable this way,” he said. 

“I don’t understand,” I whispered.Was it really possible he was not the solitary, arrogant man I’d been with the past few months? _He wasn’t… Wasn’t_ ** _that._** _Impossible._ “How can you be a Mindflayer?Everything I’ve ever heard about Mindflayers says that they are cruel.Evil.” 

He tilted his head.“Who told you that?”

 _Mistress._ “The Drow.”

“Mm.They’re a bit biased, aren’t they?”I chose not to respond.But he smiled.“Well.They’re still accurate.The Illithid are more than a bit cruel.”

I could not put the pieces together of the horrible nightmare creatures my Mistress had warned me about, and the perfectly human looking man sitting across from me.“And yet- you’ve still saved my life on more than one occasion.Which you didn’t need to do. “

“I did not _need_ to, no.”

“So why did you?”

He ran a finger over his lips.  He did not have - had _never_ actually had - lips.  His eyes studied my features.  “You are good thrall material.  And that is hard to come by, up here.”

I could sense he was hiding something - that there was another truth just on the tip of his tongue.“And?Is there something… Else?”

His hand swung side to side, floating carelessly back and forth.“For my own purposes… This humanoid notion of ‘friendship’ is intriguing.”He studied his nails.“It would be useful to learn more about it.” _Is he lying?_ That seemed awfully convenient. 

My arm was going numb from hugging myself so tightly.I released my grip a little.“Hmm.Well for one, friends don’t lie to each other to this extent, so if you want to explore it, you should practice not lying so much to your close friends-“

“Lying? When?”

“Now! All along! By not telling me!”

“And when should I have told you?”

I sighed exasperatedly.“I don’t know! But just not-“

He laughed, coarsely.“If you’d been wandering through the Underdark, having just been freed from being a slave, after a violent attack on your mistress, having nowhere to go, and you wandered by a camp where a lone _Mindflayer_ was sitting, and the Mindflayer had said, ‘Why don’t you come with me, my dear?I can lead you somewhere safe.’ - Would you have gone with it?”

He didn’t have to make me feel stupid.“No.I suppose you’re right.”

“Of _course_ I’m right.”

“But you look human,” I said, even as he tapped his hands against his leg in his usual gesture.He stopped as soon as I noticed.“You don’t look like a Mindflayer, I just know that you are one.How? How can that be?”

He sighed with no small amount of annoyance, and reached for the gold cuff at his wrist.I had almost forgotten about it.With a yank, it came off, and in a flash, he was suddenly as tall as the fireplace mantel while _seated_ \- a _huge_ mauve thing.I decided that, if not for the training we had done together, he would be rake thin.Where his mouth should have been, five long tentacles lashed quickly about with a flick like a cat’s angry tail.The Mindflayer scowled down at me - as much as he _could_ with only glaring, white eyes and prominent eye ridges to express it.Then, the cuff was replaced, and the human Tobias sat before me, albeit much taller than before, almost to the height of the Mindflayer.I blinked, and he was back to ordinary height.

“You’re tall,” I said in a rushed voice.

He chuckled slightly.“I am.Even amongst my kind.”

“ _Very_ tall.”  I had never felt so short in my life.

“Mmm-hmm.”

“It’s a bit frightening. Sorry. I’ll compose myself.”My voice stopped shaking as I took a deep breath and let it out at once.

“It should be,” he muttered.“We are a frightening people.”His voice grew soft, reminiscent.“In our heyday we were… More.”The word was soft, longing before his tone hardened.“But then the _Gith_ came.There was a…. Miscalculation,” he seemed uncomfortable talking about it, and his voice grew sharper and more pointed with every word, “on the part of what was then the Elder Brain.It allowed itself to be destroyed.I am not sure what its intention was in doing so.But my people have been scattered.Across time.Across dimensions.They _will_ be united again.”

“Is that…Your real reason for coming up here?For traveling with me?”I was not sure to what extent he had lied to me. _I don’t know what he wants with me so I want the truth..I want to find out whatever I can about why he’s up here._

He folded his hands together, leaning on his knees.“What would you do if I told you?”

I shivered at his quick answer to my thoughts.  “If you told me why you were here?”

“Mm-hmm.”

I rubbed my hair with a hand.Mussed it again.Straightened it.It felt still out of place, and that bothered me more than I cared to admit.“I don’t… I don’t know.It depends on what you tell me.”

He stood up.“Do you intend to tell the others?”

 _Intimidation_.Well, it worked.“I don’t- the others- I’m only friends with Kol.I haven’t really spoken much to the others.But-“

He had a thoughtful hand to his chin.“Kol would probably not take this well.”

“She’s-I wouldn’t tell her, then.And I hate to admit it, but _I_ consider you my friend, and I _have. “_ I stopped myself from saying what I had started to say.“I have for some time.So.I won’t tell if there’s a good reason not to, even if- I don’t know!I don’t know.”I threw my hands in the air and shook my head, leaning back against the chair back.“I probably won’t tell them,” I said very fast.

He growled.“ _Probably_?Probably isn’t good enough.”

 _I won’t tell.But -_ I felt him press in my mind, digging for more information, ignoring the fact I could sense him there. 

“You’re angry with me,” he said. 

“I’m not angry,” I lied. _I’ve been falling all this time, and trying not to.And getting close to him, and now there’s a wall between us._

“And you think you can _lie_ to me?” He said with an exasperated sigh. His voice grew softer, but he pushed.“ _Why_ are you angry?”

My voice trembled as I fought the surge of tears.“Because I liked you.”

He took in a breath, but did not speak immediately.When he did, his tone was careless.“And… This upsets you?”

“Yes,” I bit.“Because I don’t-“ my voice cracked.“I don’t know who you are, anymore.I don’t even know - is Tobias even your name?I mean, I don’t even know you.I feel like… I was falling in love with a ghost.” 

“My name is T'qou'huq'ua.”

“Oh.”I repeated it in my mind, trying to cement the strange syllables there.But only the first sticked - _T’qou, like saying “Tuh-quo.”_

“And,” he cleared his throat.“You know more about me than any _humanoid_ creature.I _am,_ in fact, _me._ ” 

I hugged myself tighter.My voice came out very small and quiet. “I’m going to ask you again.Why are you up here?”

He sighed heavily, grabbed my tea, and downed it in an easy motion.  “When we first met, I told you I was searching for Vecnan artifacts.  This was not _entirely_ untrue.  I have not been looking for Vecnan artifacts, but I _have_ been looking for something.  I tried to find it in the Underdark, it was not there, and now I am trying to find it up here.  That was true.  I have been helping you to find your father.  _That_ is true.  He may know something of what I seek.  And… If I may find that from him, you may do as you wish.”  He hesitated on his next words.  “Have you heard of something called the Adversary?”

“No.I have not.”

“There is an Illithid legend that for one of us, the ceremorphosis will fail in all but body.There will be an illithid in power, in appearance, with all of our abilities, walking around, unseen, unnoticed, undetected.All of our power, but with the personality of its host.”He sat back, looking consternated.“They say such a thing is impure.However.”He folded his hands.“They are simply afraid.I am going to find this Adversary.I am going to devour it.”He stared into the fire. “I’m going to go back to my home city.I’m going to conquer it.I’m going to use its resources to conquer another city.And then another, and then another.Until all the cities on this plane are working together.And then, we’ll move onto the next plane.And the next.Until our empire is built.”

All this information overwhelmed me.“How do you even begin?If It’s a legend?”

“Well, that _is_ the question.That is one of the reasons I chose you.I had heard something of your father.He may know something.”

He had known something about my father beforehand, and he had never told me? “What do you mean?What have you heard?”

“Just that he is a powerful warlock of some sort.Or mage, I’m not quite sure.”

“I’ve heard a warlock.It’s what I _thought,_ anyway.I suppose I don’t know either.”He shrugged and was quiet.We were silent for a moment, staring together into the fire.“You… Chose me?” I asked at last. 

“Yes.”

“ _Just_ because of my father?” _Why do you torture yourself with these questions, Laena, you know what his answers will be._

“Well that was one of _two_ reasons.” 

“What’s the other?”

His smile was smug. “You seemed like you needed a strong will to which you could be pliable.” 

He meant someone to dominate me.I blushed again as I fought the memory of a sharp slap on my rear.“Not entirely untrue,” I said to the wall. 

I stared at a crack in the paint, but I could still hear the smirk in his voice as he said, “No.  It’s not.  It’s a useful thing in a potential thrall.” 

 _How embarrassing.AND he is probably reading my thoughts right now, too._ I cleared my throat, tried to keep my voice light.“And when did you… Choose me, as you said?”

“Eh… A number of years ago.” 

My head whipped around to look at him.I had expected a few months, at maximum.  _“Years?”_

He looked at me sidelong.“I’m patient.I will live a couple hundred more.At _least_.”

I turned the edges of my robe over and over in my hands. _Years_? _He watched me for_ ** _years._** All the times I had the unsettling feeling of someone watching, someone in the shadows.Or the eyes, like a weight on the back of my neck, that followed me too long when I walked in the dark, alone, through the city. I had written it off as paranoia. Had that been him, all along? It should frighten me - and it did, I could feel the adrenaline surging with his words.But there was also something… Else. _Excitement?_ Why would something so sick excite me? _Because it means you weren’t alone after all,_ I thought. _Or that someone desired you so much, they followed you around and waited._ The words tumbled from my lips, anyway, “What does it entail to be a thrall?”

He leaned over on his knees, his face in shadow, his voice a low rumble.“To be under the mental command of a Master.To do…Whatsoever he wishes.”

 _Whatsoever…_ My heart raced at his words.I picked at a stray thread, tone casual.“Are you in control of your own free will?As a thrall?”

“Not generally.”

That was less enticing.I did not thrill in the idea of relinquishing all control.“I don’t really want to be your thrall then.” 

His voice was amused.“You might find it to be quite enjoyable.That’s part of the experience.”

 _Was it?_ I was ashamed of where my thoughts were going at his words. _It’s much like being a submissive anyway, except for the loss of free will.I would want that, otherwise.I really hope he isn’t reading my thoughts right now.This is bad._ Heat spreading across my cheeks, I said, “I think I’ll wait on making such a decision.”

“So you do not intend to tell anyone… Else?”

“No.” 

“And not to belabor the point, but… I _could_ quite easily kill you.”

I glared at him.“I’m not going to tell.And you’ve threatened me before, you know.And I _still_ haven’t told anyone anything.”

“Good.Then it seems to be working.”He stood up.“I’ll make sure to continue to do so on a regular basis.”

I grimaced.“That’s really not necessary.”He started to move, and I stopped him with a cry, “Oh!Wait!What are we going to tell Kol?She’s suspicious.What do we do-“

“Yes, you should speak with her about your-“ he cleared his throat, “tastes.”

“My…Tastes?”

He folded his arms before his chest and looked at the fire.“Your proclivities in… Romantic situations.”He paused between his words.“Because I was forced to mention _something_ to her to explain the scream.”

I inhaled sharply as I caught his meaning.  “Oh!”

He held up a conciliatory hand. “I was _very_ general.”

Embarrassed, I avoided his eyes.“I see.I suppose that’s another conversation – well, I wanted to get to know her better anyway, but, I don’t know if she’d be interested in speaking of such things… But I guess I have to now.”

“Yes.She believes everything we said, but her curiosity is piqued.She is not satisfied and believes it may not be entirely as we have described.The answers we’ve given… Something seems off to her.”

I rubbed my neck.“Ah.So… Do we just pretend like nothing happened?Do we pretend like we actually fought?What do we do now?”

He gazed at me as though I were a simpleton.“We pretend like we had a lover’s spat.”Mortified, I tried to stare him in the face, but found my eyes trailing to the left wall instead.“Incidentally, I will need your help in covering up my tracks when I go out to consume brains.”

I felt sick as my stomach dropped.He spoke about it so casually.“That’s right.I suppose you have to do that.”

“Yes.I _can_ levitate down from the window, which is helpful, but-“

“You can levitate?”As if in answer, he rose slowly up into the air, spreading his arms wide in a showoff manner.Open mouthed, I said, “You can’t teach me that, I suppose?”

He smiled smugly, laying his arms across one another before his chest.His feet touched the ground again.“No.Not everyone can be an Illithid.”

“I suppose?” _I don’t even know what that means._

“It means I’m better than everyone else.”

“Ah.” _I hate that his arrogance is attractive to me._ He began to leave the room, deep in thought.“Wait!”He paused. “Can I see what you look like one more time?Possibly?”

He turned back to me, his left eyebrow raised.“Why?”

“I want to?” _I didn’t really get to look._ With a roll of his eyes, he removed the bracelet again.Now, he was nearly ceiling height when standing.It was strange to think it, because he was truly a monster, but - one I wanted to keep staring at.It was like artwork that Mistress hung in her home - it wasn’t the pretty landscape kind that others adored.It was the dark, rigid, harsh kind that drew your attention until you couldn’t look away.I thought Mindflayers were sort of like that.Although I had personally pictured them as warty, or disgusting, or ugly looking.But I wanted to run my hand along the ridges of his elongated head, or explore the place where his long purple neck disappeared beneath his tentacles.Like a little girl discovering a strange and beautiful creature for the first time, I was absolutely mesmerized. 

 _I am handsome for my kind, as well,_ he added, tuning into my thoughts without hesitation.His tentacles moved ever so slightly in a swaying motion.He sniggered. _At least, they tell me I am a truly unique specimen._

His skin looked so smooth - the most bright shade of mauve I had ever seen.  Like he had been dipped in a rich dye.  It glistened ever so slightly in the firelight.  Was he sweating? “Can I…Touch you?” I asked, in a hushed voice of amazement.

He closed his milky white eyes and there was the slightest sigh of annoyance from beneath the five long tentacles.But his voice did not sound annoyed, more amused. _Very well.Hurry._ He reached out a long arm, and I grabbed his hand, turning it over. It was warmer than I anticipated.The palm was still humanoid - there were ridges and lines, the same as Tobias.His fingernails were long and black.But what struck me most, as I ran my hand up his wrist and to his forearm, was that yes, his skin was smooth.I was reminded of the time mistress had a party and I got to hold a huge snake - Tobias’ skin had that sort of tough, reptilian feel, but with a softness to it.I frowned, rubbing my fingertips together.He was slightly sticky to the touch, or maybe damp. _It’s something I secrete,_ he said, _To keep my skin from drying out.It’s warmer, with more water in the air, where I come from._ I reached out again and touched his abdomen, and felt the hard muscle of his stomach underneath.My breath caught.We were standing so very close, and I splayed my hand out, getting my bearing again.

 _Laena,_ he said, at last.

“What?” I whispered.

He bent over, and one tentacle reached out.With the delicacy of a finger, it tilted my chin up to look him in the eyes.They were half moons, smiling.His voice was the most coaxing I had ever heard it. _Be my thrall._

~*~ 

“No! I can’t - I mean - I - “ She sputtered, and her head was full of the their first fuck.His eyes closed, he laughed harshly and released her chin.She moved away, out of his reach, and sat down.He replaced the bracelet, Laena blinked, and he was back to Tobias once more. 

He smirked, unable to hide his amusement.“I thought you enjoyed it,” Tobias said, almost teasingly.“Or was that before you found out what I was?”

She shrank back in the chair like a frightened child.“Please… Stop.”

“Well, consider it, anyway.  It would be in your benefit to submit to me.  And who knows, for you?”  He purposefully whispered, thrilling in the shiver that passed through her at his words, “Perhaps there would be other benefits as well.”

“But you’re not - you’re not even human,” she muttered.

“That didn’t stop you the last time.”He stood up.“And it hadn’t stopped you in the past.”

“Different,” she squirmed, positively confused by him.  It was delicious, watching her becoming more uncomfortable.  “That’s different.  Not - not _now_.”

“Yes,” he said, his smile widening, “Now you’re a free woman to go and make your own decisions.Like fucking an Illithid, for example.”

She put her hands over her ears.“No!”

He wished he could make her his thrall then.His willing puppet.But the sadist in him admitted - it was much more fun to slowly break her in. _Putting your hands over your ears won’t stop me from getting to you._ He whispered, his voice a sinuous swirl in her mind.He caressed her very thoughts with her words, and her whole body shook as she tried to curl into a ball, to get away from him, but found herself unable to. _You can no longer hide from me.Your every thought, your every breath, is mine.I’m giving you a chance to accept it willingly.I recommend you take it._ Smiling, he moved to the door.She looked up once, whimpering.He was not convinced the whimpers came entirely from fear.His shadow cast from the torchlight outside stretched across the floor, reaching for her. It was not the shadow of a human. _Sweet dreams, Laena._

_~*~_

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> now  
> a warning:
> 
> this book is fictional, or at least, takes place in a dimension far removed from our own. the characters within are therefore, not real, so far as you will ever meet them, and perhaps you should be glad for that.
> 
> the relationship of the main characters begins as a very unhealthy one. i do not condone starting, staying in, or promoting relationships that are abusive. although BDSM in and of itself is not abusive, sometimes it is used by one person to control another, as in this story. to Dominate without love, or guidance, but out of a need for power and self-fulfillment without any regard to their partner, is inherently wrong, and is abuse.
> 
> this story contains things that might be considered triggers to some, including triggers for rape, abuse, and other things that draw on many dark emotions - things that many of us have experienced. 
> 
> we all slow down to stare at car wrecks, which is why this story exists. 
> 
> but please make sure any real life bondage or Domination, submission or sadomasochism, (or any other interpersonal dynamic play,) takes place within the confines of healthy, respectful relationships, and that boundaries are clear before you begin any sort of play. 
> 
> and whether you play at, or pretend to be in a less than loving relationship behind closed doors, with the full agreement of the other person, with lines fully drawn before you’ve even begun…
> 
> well.
> 
> that’s entirely up to you and your partner now, isn’t it?
> 
> thank you for playing safe.
> 
> ~the author


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